





COF/RIGHT DEPOSm 












/ 


THE OVERLAND SERIES 


L’7 ^ 


ALDEN THE PONY EXPRESS RIDER 


THE OVERLAND SERIES 

Thrilling stories of adventures with Indians 
and wild animals which were daily inci- 
dents in the lives of the Pony Express 
Riders on the Old California Trail. 

BY 

EDWARD S. ELLIS 


First Volume 

ALDEN THE PONY EXPRESS RIDER, 
or Racing for Life. 

Second Volume 

ALDEN AMONG THE INDIANS, or The 
Search for the Missing Pony Express Rider. 


The Overland Series is bound in uni- 
form style of cloth, with side and back 
stamped in colors. Illustrated by Edwin 
J. Prittie. 

Price, single volume $1.00 

Price, jDer set of two volumes, in at- 
tractive boxes $2.00 




PFVi z-’’ . » 
Vv. ,« 


- j*. i< 

». . - V 

• 

T ^ 

f 




I' » ■ 






} % 

< ‘,'' . . 


.V- .* 

f 


ii 


. ;a^‘ 1' ^ * r '<_ 22 £flL_ *•*• *9Jl^ ■JSr^'** • ' ‘ ■ -r< 

’ /' . , - l • . ' .if 4 '*^ ■ 





-■ . f-Yi^ vr.5^.-jipw^4^’< -.'^ i jirdU.;: Y.ys-^-'v v ..i 

• ; ‘;v. -cV,. Y^.i,. *T •> -. ,, u^Sw^Wl y yt^ <^s Yt, 


% •: 


avY'"- 


‘^l 






i 'V\^ jf J 


* •• r 1 

'li# 





The Youth Pulled the Trigger an Instant before the 
Other let Fly. 




THE OVERLAND SERIES 


ALDEN 

THE 

Pony Express Rider 

OR 

Racing for Life 


BY 

EDWARD S. ELLIS 

Author of the Deerfoot Books, 
The Arizona Series, etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
EDWIN J. PRITTIE 


THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Copyright 1909, by 
The John C. Winston Co. 






Two Copies Keceivec! 

JUN 25 Wyy i 


t EJitry 
aAc.‘No. 1 

VI 9 J ? I 

COPY A. 


1 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. Introductory 9 

II. A Quarrel 24 

III. Westward Bound 39 

IV. The Danger Cloud 54 

V. On Guard 69 

VI. Aboriginal Cunning 84 

VII. Just in Time 99 

VIII. The Attack 114 

IX. Old Acquaintances 129 

X. A Hunt 145 

XI. A Disappointment 159 

XII. A Not Uncommon Incident 176 

XIII. “That’s Just Like Him’’ 191 

XIV. An Alarming Situation 204 

XV. Now FOR THE Mail Station 219 

XVI. Cause and Effect 234 

XVII. At the Station 249 

XVIII. Outwitted 264 

XIX. A Blessing in Disguise 279 

XX. A Strange Proceeding 293 

XXI. A Setback 307 

XXII. Jethro’s Secret and What Fol- 
lowed 320 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


The Youth Pulled the Trigger an Instant 


BEFORE THE Other LET Fly Frontispiecc 

Page 

The Sharp Cracks of Weapons Rang Out 
IN THE Stillness 115 


An Indian Arrow Told its Dreadful Story 209 


He had Discovered His Prey 


224 










iil- 




1 *^. 


f 






w. 


r<?K f ' 






I kJP ' • » 


•‘•i 












«» 1 J 


?4'' 


> ^ 




> '^i 




«•].> 




L 

* 7 /'^* > -r 








j . <* 


7^- 


-W 


It* 


4 * ' 


vt 


'V 


i»r>' 




.'t 


^ ft . 






'<, i 


s^V^.' 
^'V,>/Jv •■ 

i > .V - 

lIf V. • . . ■ 






I' • 


IS. 


*«». 


I? 


.UX.S 4 


cf 


n. 


rT' V 


•> 


>1 


MS 

,^iv*'- ■*) 

JrLw* ' M * ’ 


1 » 


V^i 


t *»■■ rt 


• r 


,f > 


•.f 






> Vj 






' • . 


^ r' 






i?. V W 




fr*r 




t* 


•ifiv \.: 

■?.r All , M 


• J i- ' • 


l?y 






>JA 


;>■ 


,ft > 


*•< 


-•i)" 


# t 


’# • 




^ <L^ * • 


'r' /-V . .‘ vv - 

J i •^T.!^ » . f .“* 


*-. I 






« t 






^•lAViv 


,v. 

*.3? 












i ^ 


V: 




?y 


- . i ^ a \ 

L - ' fj * '*- i 


^ x- 


‘i T 4 i ' '*■ 






iv 


1 


-H/ 


r % ■ 

HL 

► * 

'# f ‘H^l. ' 


il>' 4^::' ■> 


i 


^v ■ 

r^w / 


,-iF 


?■■• ?!■'. 


» ^ » 

■p 




1 y 








. J >. 'i 


V^ ' ' 4 
■« ft *2 ■ Tl 


Vi • 


-tv> 


•v.:: •>'/''/' 


'•’* r t: 




t!',’ < 








‘ A-‘- 


-1 


^1 


‘S »• 


•s.' »>■, 


\S ' 


- r> 






■» ' V, 


.!• 




' — 4 ^ 




VJ 








.T. 


If 


.4-' 


4 . 1^1 


i t 


Iff 






rl 


-% 

V.': 

t , .'» 






if.- 


I I 


S^T 






(y 




i» r 




4r\w- , \ ' ,. j» . 

- ** A * V-w' i 4* 4, 

' ' y‘ • ' 'H . ■ 




^ . t* t 






» « 




r » 


:* 1 




‘.Cl 




t 


*V # . 


yiJ.'.c 


LIj 




» 


S 


iKi 


»%<k. 


-£jV:. 


Vr* 




Jr>. 








-ii,* 


'f't 








V » 


r-.V 








■ * ■ *•' 3 »i ■ . 

y ' ’i 




A.n 


S' T 




f 


!k 


*• ^ * 


V 


(/ 




V7 















RACING FOR LIFE 


CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCTORY 

N ever did the town of St. Joseph, in the 
State of Missouri, pass through more 
stirring excitement than on the afternoon of 
April 16, 1860. 

Every man, woman and child seemed to feel 
the pulsing in the air. Most of the people 
were on the street, though hundreds of mothers 
and daughters were at the upper windows, on 
the alert that something which was expected 
should not elude them. The men talked to- 
gether in earnest voices, sometimes moving 
restlessly over the pavements, glancing at their 
watches and saying, in those hushed, eager 
tones which often accompany tense emotion: 

“It’s pretty near time! I hope he won’t be 
late.” 

“No fear for Alec; he’s always on time.” 

9 


10 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Poor fellow! he doesn’t look strong,” re- 
marked a sympathizer. 

“Alec Carlyle is one of those chaps that you 
can’t judge by looks; there isn’t a better horse- 
man west of the Alleghanies.” 

St. Joseph in those days was not a large 
town. There was room to hold in comfort 
most of the population on Third Street, and 
it was there that nearly all of them had gath- 
ered on this soft spring afternoon. Had you 
been a* member of the crowd you would have 
noticed that the eyes of nearly every one were 
turned expectantly toward the one-story, brick 
express office on the east side of the street, be- 
tween Felix and Edmond Streets. Some- 
thing was going on inside of that modest 
structure, but as yet it was veiled from the 
public. Several men and boys who stood near- 
est the building tried to peep through the win- 
dows, but, unable to do so, intently listened. 
All that they heard was the occasional stamp 
of a horse’s feet, and the confused murmur of 
voices. But it was not hard for them to imag- 
ine the scene within. 

It was about four o’clock, when a small can- 
non boomed from the side of the street, two 
or three doors distant. The report was a sig- ^ 


INTRODUCTORY 


11 


nal to the ferry boat to come across from the 
Ellwood side of the river and await a certain 
horseman who would soon arrive at the bank. 

Only a few minutes had passed, when from 
within the stables near the express office, some 
one vigorously shoved open the doors. At the 
same instant, a wiry pony, with flashing eyes 
and dilated nostrils and fine muscles aquiver, 
made a tremendous leap which carried him al- 
most to the middle of the street, and heading 
toward the river, plunged away under the 
prick of the spur, on a dead run. 

Horse and rider made a fine picture. Sil- 
ver mounted trappings decorated both. The 
man might have been mistaken for a circus per- 
former, in his brilliant uniform, with plated 
horn, pistol, scabbard and belt, gay, flower- 
worked leggings, jingling spurs and fine boots 
with high heels, such as cowmen and rustlers 
affect. He was of slight figure, dark mus- 
tache, flashing hazel eyes, flowing hair and 
closely compressed lips, and he sat his steed 
with perfect grace. He wore the broad- 
brimmed sombrero that seemed scarcely aff ect- 
ed by the gale which his animal created. He 
did not look to the right or left, nor notice the 
cheers, shouts and waving of hats and hands. 


12 


RACING FOR LIFE 


He peered grimly ahead, as if his life depend- 
ed upon his reaching the ferry without a sec- 
ond's loss of time. 

As the pony shot like a cannon ball out of 
the doors of the stable and sped with arrowy 
swiftness down the street, the two men with 
whom he had been in consultation within the 
structure stepped forward and watched him. 
They smiled, though there was a serious ex- 
pression on each face, for both felt they were 
looking upon an epoch-making event. And it 
was Alexander Carlyle, the superb horseman, 
who was making it. 

Neither of the couple took their eyes from 
him as long as he was within sight. One was 
Ben Fickland, superintendent of the stage line 
to Denver, known as “Pike’s Peak Express,” 
the uncle of the horseman. The other was Mr. 
Bussell of the firm of Russell, Majors & Wad- 
dell, who had been running for years a daily 
coach from the Missouri River to Salt Lake 
City. The two were thrilled not so much by 
what they saw as by their knowledge of what 
it meant. 

On the afternoon that I have named, the first 
“Pony Express” left St. Joseph, Missouri, on 
the long westward trip to San Francisco. The 


INTRODUCTORY 


13 


four small leather sacks holding the mail were 
each six by twelve inches, one being fastened 
at the front and the other at the rear of the 
saddle, so that the rider sat between them. 
The pouches were impervious to rain, and for 
further protection, the letters were wrapped in 
oiled silk and then sealed. The pouches them- 
selves were locked, not to be opened until they 
reached their destination. It was ordered 
from the first that they and their contents 
should never weigh more than twenty pounds. 
A rider might carry several hundred letters on 
each trip, for all were written on the finest of 
tissue paper. The postage at first was five dol- 
lars for each letter, later reduced as the build- 
ing of the telegraph line progressed, to one 
dollar an ounce. In addition to this enormous 
postage, the merchants who were awaiting the 
important missives joined in paying the car- 
rier a liberal fee, when he maintained the sched- 
ule or made quicker time than usual. 

Mr. Russell had been persuaded by Senator 
Gwin of California to start the Pony Express. 
He had made an arrangement with the rail- 
ways between New York and St. Joseph to 
run a fast train; the Hannibal and St. Joseph 
Railroad used a special engine, and the boat 


14 


RACING FOR LIFE 


which made the crossing of the Missouri was 
held so that not a minute would be lost in trans- 
ferring the mail. A piercing whistle notified 
the horseman that the boat was waiting for 
him. 

About the same time, Harry RoIF, mounted 
on a mettled half -breed broncho, galloped east- 
ward from Sacramento. He, too, did his part 
in opening one of the most romantic episodes 
in the history of our country. Two sets of 
mail bags were approaching each other from 
points two thousand miles apart, and there 
were times when this approach was at the as- 
tounding speed of forty and even fifty miles 
an hour! The average daily rate was two 
hundred and fifty miles a day, but where ev- 
erything was favorable, or when an express 
rider was fieeing from the vengeful red men, 
his pony struck a gait of twenty-five miles and 
maintained it, when an untrained horse would 
have dropped in his tracks. 

When Harry Rolf dashed out from Sacra- 
mento, he made one change and covered the 
first twenty miles in fifty -nine minutes. He 
changed again at Folsom and headed for Pla- 
cerville, at the foot of the Sierra Nevada 
range, fifty-five miles away. At that point. 


INTRODUCTORY 


15 


he found a rider awaiting him, who, quickly 
shifting the two packed mail pouches, was otf 
with the speed of the wind. Thus from point 
to point and relieving one another at compara- 
tively regular distances, the entire run of 185 
miles was made in a little more than fifteen 
hours. Be it remembered that in crossing the 
western summit of the mountains the horse had 
to wallow through thirty feet of snow. Not 
only that, but most of the distance was through 
a hostile Indian country, where a slight mis- 
take on the part of the horseman was likely to 
prove fatal to him. There was no saying what 
boulder or rock sheltered a crouching redskin 
waiting exultingly with bow and arrow or rifle 
for the horseman to come within range, A 
white man was legitimate game for the war- 
rior, as much as was the deer or bear, and the 
sentiments of the rider were the same regard- 
ing the warrior. One rider covered the last 
130 miles of the western division, from old 
Camp Floyd to Salt Lake City, where his part- 
ner from the east met and exchanged mails 
with the comrade going toward the Missouri. 

After the rider from St. Joseph had reached 
the river side, he passed upon the waiting fer- 
ry boat, and entering a room prepared for him. 


16 


RACING FOR LIFE 


changed his fancy costume for what might be 
called a business suit. Hardly had the boat 
touched the other shore, when the eager pony 
was off again on a dead run. 

It is w^orth remembering in these later days, 
that the route of the Pony Express westward 
was that which was followed by the Mormons 
in 1847, and by the emigrants a year or two 
later when on their way to California in quest 
of gold. Crossing the Missouri, the messen- 
ger veered slightly to the southwest, holding to 
the course until he struck the old military road, 
forty-odd miles distant, where he shifted to 
the northwest and crossed the Kickapoo Res- 
ervation. Then in succession he passed 
through Grenada, Logchain, Seneca, Ash 
Point, Guittard’s, Marysville, Hollenburg, 
thence following Little Blue Valley to Rock 
Creek, Big Sandy, Liberty Farm, across 
prairies to Thirty-Two Mile Creek, over the 
divide, sand hills and plains to Platte River, 
and then westward and up that valley to Fort 
Kearny. 

When the Pony Express began operations, 
the messengers from St. Joe rode to the station 
of Guittard, 125 miles away. This was done 
every week, until two months later the service 


INTRODUCTORY 


17 


was made semi-weekly, when the first rider 
finished his run at Seneca, 80 miles out. 

Fort Kearny was an old post in Nebraska. 
It is now a thriving town and the capital of 
the county of the same name. The trail from 
this point led westward for 200 miles along the 
Platte River to Julesburg, in the northeastern 
corner of Colorado, then to Fort Laramie, 
whose gray ruins stand to-day in southeastern 
Wyoming, fifty miles west of Cheyenne. 
Next, over the foothills to the northwest, and 
through the famous South Pass of the Rocky 
Mountains, by Fort Bridger to Salt Lake 
City. 

This completed the long ride over the east- 
ern division. From Salt Lake, the express 
rider strained every nerve to Fort Churchill, 
50 miles away, thence to Rush Valley, or old 
Camp Floyd, Deep Creek, Ruby Valley, 
Smith’s Creek, Fort Churchill, over the Sierra 
Nevada Mountains, and so on through points 
that have been already named, to Sacramento, 
whence the mail was cairied by boat to San 
Francisco. 

A glance at the map will show that this long 
run — not quite two thousand miles from St. 
Joe — was across and through the wildest por- 
2 


18 


RACING FOR LIFE 


tion of our continent. Rugged mountains, in- 
accessible to the ordinary traveler, had to be 
crossed, and only he who was familiar with 
the route could do it. Tumultuous torrents 
had to be forded or swum, where horse and 
rider were often hurled far down stream be- 
fore the animal could clamber up the rocky 
bank on the other side. Those desolate soli- 
tudes were swept by furious storms of sleet, 
hail and rain, vast valleys were turned into 
swirling lakes, and the driving snow often 
blinded horse and rider, so he could not see 
twenty feet beyond the nose of his animal. 

There were stretches of plain where the 
panting pony and his master could not get a 
drop of water for hours. When they plunged 
into the mountains in the depth of winter, the 
temperature was often far below zero, but the 
undaunted rider kicked away the snow on the 
lee side of some boulder, kindled a fire of dead 
limbs, when he could find such sparse fuel, but 
more often he had nothing of that nature. 
The tough little pony was wrapped about by 
his blanket, the master inclosed his iron body 
in another, or partly in the same one, lay down 
and slept, with never a dream to disturb his 
rest. But he could not forget his duty, which 


INTRODUCTORY 


19 


was so impressed on his mind that he awoke 
to the minute he had set for awaking. Prob- 
ably the first faint streakings of morning were 
showing in the east, when he flung his blanket 
aside, remounted and dashed off again. 

It will be understood that when the Pony 
Express was organized, it was necessary to 
establish relief stations at intervals of a dozen 
miles or so. Now and then these were sep- 
arated by greater distances, when it was im- 
possible to have it otherwise. Between the 
stations, the rider kept his horse at the highest 
possible speed. The average time scheduled 
was ten or twelve miles an hour, but where the 
route was favorable, the ponies held a speed of 
twenty and sometimes of twenty-five miles. 
Thus, as has been stated, the rider from the 
east and he from the west thundered toward 
each other at the incredible rate of fifty miles 
an hour — equal to the speed of an express rail- 
way train. 

There were portions of the trail where no 
rider dared show himself and pony during the 
daytime, because of the Indians on the alert 
for his scalp. The intrepid fellow and animal 
remained in hiding till night. When darkness 
came the man stealthily re-saddled his horse. 


20 


RACING FOR LIFE 


led him out from the covert in which they had 
been crouching, climbed silently into the saddle 
and resumed his headlong ride. 

The late Major Chorpenning, remembered 
as one of the most prominent of freighters 
across the plains, told me that more than once 
he had labored through- the mountains in the 
depth of winter when the snow under his feet 
was sixty feet deep! He was in Salt Lake 
City, talking with Brigham Young, when word 
came that the mail rider westward had been 
killed by Indians. The fiery-tempered Major 
bounded to his feet and swore he would follow 
up the rider, recover the mail and carry it to 
Sacramento. When he refused to take any 
companion with him. President Young for- 
bade him to go, insisting that it would be sure 
death. 

‘T’m serving the United States and not 
you"" replied the Major, laying his hand on 
his revolver; ‘T don’t think it will be healthy 
for either you or any one else to try to stop 
me.” 

So it was the daring Major rode out of 
Salt Lake City alone. Being perfectly fa- 
miliar with the route, he made good progress. 
He had decided in his mind where the rider 


INTRODUCTORY 


21 


had met his death, and there sure enough he 
came upon the body. It was shockingly mu- 
tilated, and it was evident the man had made 
a brave defense. Chorpenning found his 
watch, which strangely enough had not been 
taken away by his slayers, and within a rod 
of where he lay were the mail pouches, un- 
harmed. The pony, of course, was gone. 

The Major strapped the pouches in place 
and resumed his ride westward. 

“From that hour,” said he, “until I came in 
sight of Carson City, it seemed to me I was 
playing hide and seek with the Indians. The 
first thing that caught my eye was what looked 
like a crow sitting on the edge of a rock only 
a little way in front. A second glance showed 
that it was the topknot of a redskin, who 
dropped down before I could draw bead on 
him. He wasn’t the only one of his kind in 
the neighborhood, for I caught glimpses of 
several, and believe I winged one of them. 

“Having found secure shelter, I waited till 
night before moving on again. For the fol- 
lowing three days and nights I did not do a 
mile of traveling when the sun was shining. 
As it was, I pushed so hard that, being lucky 
in catching the boat at Sacramento, I reached 


22 


RACING FOR LIFE 


San Francisco several hours ahead of sched- 
ule time. The people would not believe my 
story at first. I remember that the famous 
mountaineer Kit Carson was one of the doubt- 
ers, but when convinced of what I had done, he 
declared it the most remarkable ride ever made 
by any man in crossing the plains.” 

Since this chapter is introductory and in- 
tended merely to clear the ground for what 
follows, I shall close it with an account of 
the most wonderful ride in the history of the 
West. It took place in 1851, and the hero 
was F. X. Aubrey, who made a wager of 
$1,000 that he would ride alone from Santa 
Fe, New Mexico, to Independence, Missouri, 
in six days. The distance is not quite 800 
miles. 

With the grim resolve to win or die in the 
, ^tempt, Aubrey sent half a dozen of his 
toughest and fieetest ponies ahead, and had 
them stationed at different points, to be used 
by him as he came up to where they were wait- 
ing. He galloped out of Santa Fe at a sweep- 
ing pace, smilingly bowing in response to the 
cheers of his friends who had gathered to see 
him start. Several undertook to accompany 
him part of the way, but his pace was so tre- 


INTRODUCTORY 


23 


mendous that he soon left all behind. He did 
not stop for rest at any point of that terrible 
ride. Arriving at a station, he halted just 
long enough to change horses, when he was 
off again at the same furious speed. He * 
snatched a few bits of bread and meat, and ate 
them without drawing rein. Nature could not 
be denied, and he must have slept for hours 
at a time while automatically spurring his ani- 
mal and holding his seat in the saddle. 

The terrific strain killed several of his best 
horses, but he dashed into Independence, just 
five days and nineteen hours after leaving 
Santa Fe. He had to be carried into the hotel, 
where he lay in a stupor for forty-eight hours. 
But for his superb constitution and health, he 
must have succumbed. In the course of a few 
days, however, he fully recovered, having 
given an exhibition which will stand for many 
a day as a record beyond the reach of any 
horseman of the plains. 


CHAPTER II 


A QUARREL 

I HAVE tried to give you an idea of the 
scene in the town of St. Joseph, Missouri, 
on that afternoon in April, 1860, when Alex- 
ander Carlyle, the first Pony Express rider, 
dashed out of the stables and galloped full 
speed down the street to the ferry, amid the 
huzzahs of the excited multitudes. 

You will recall the hint I dropped as to 
the appearance of the young man. He was 
a consumptive, and had to give up the trying 
work at the end of two months. Half a year 
later he died and was succeeded by John Frye. 
This daring fellow afterward became a mem- 
ber of General Blunt’s Union scouts, and was 
killed in 1863, in a hand to hand fight with 
a squad of “Arkansas Rangers,” after he had 
slain five of them. 

Among the crowds swarming in St. Joe 
were three persons of whom I shall have con- 
siderable to tell you. Alden Payne was a 
24 ! 


A QUARREL 


25 


lustj^ briglit-witted youth, seventeen years 
old, whose home was on a small farm, two or 
three miles from the town. His father owned 
the place, and he and his wife were industrious 
and thrifty. The couple, however, caught the 
gold fever, though the discovery of the pre- 
cious metal in California was more than ten 
years old and the excitement had largely died 
out. They decided to sell the property and 
go overland to the Pacific slope. Their two 
children were Alden and ‘‘Vixey,” a sweet girl, 
eight years younger than her brother. In ad- 
dition, Mr. Payne had a colored youth who 
had been turned over to him when an infant 
by his widowed mother, she having consented 
to become the wife of a big, lazy darky, with 
no love for other folks’ children. 

Jethro Mix, although a year younger than 
Alden, was half a head taller, several inches 
bigger around, and more than twenty pounds 
heavier. It cannot be said he was bright, but 
he was strong, fond of every member of the 
family, indolent, and a good servant when 
forced to work. 

Mr. Payne sold his property to Otis Mar- 
tin, his brother-in-law. While making prep- 
arations to join an emigrant train soon to start 


26 


RACING FOR LIFE 


across the plains, an unexpected obstacle ap- 
peared. Mr. Martin refused to pay over the 
purchase money, unless Payne kept charge and 
took care of the place until the following 
spring. At first, the owner believed he would 
have to put off his western journey until the 
time named, but a compromise was reached. 
Naturally because the delay impended, the 
couple were more anxious than before to start 
on the long, dangerous journey. They de- 
cided to do so, taking Vixey with them, but 
leaving Alden and the colored youth, Jethro, 
to look after the property until the middle of 
the following April, when they would turn it 
over to Mr. Martin, and follow the family 
across the plains. 

It was the keenest of disappointments to the 
two youths, who, if possible, were more eager 
to start on the two-thousand-mile journey than 
were the adults; but this disappointment was 
greatly softened by the knowledge that the 
delay was only for a few months. The as- 
surance that it was much better to set out in 
the spring than in the autumn had not a 
feather’s weight with them: they would have 
been glad to head westward in the midst of a 
December snowstorm. 


A QUARREL 


27 


It should be added regarding Alden and 
Jethro that, having spent their lives on what 
might be called the frontier, they had used 
every privilege which came within their reach. 
Both were fine horsemen, and Alden had no 
superior among the young men in the neigh- 
borhood as a hunter and marksman. The two 
spent every hour they could command in roam- 
ing through the forests, some of which were 
miles distant. While the colored youth did 
well when all the circumstances are remem- 
bered, he was by no means the equal of his 
young master in courage or in skill with the 
rifle. 

Alden, accompanied by Jethro, walked into 
St. Joe and joined the spectators who were 
waiting to see Carlyle start on his ride of 
a hundred and thirty miles westward. They 
had known of his intention for several days. 
The enterprise bore so close a relation to their 
own plans that they felt peculiar interest in it. 

‘‘Gorry! ain’t it queer, Al?” asked his com- 
panion, after the gaily bedecked rider had 
dashed by on his way to the ferry. 

“Isn’t what queer?” inquired his companion, 
in turn. 

“Why, dat Alec Carlyle am gwine ober de 


RACING FOR LIFE 


same road dat we’re gwine to go ober in a day 
or two.” 

“There’s nothing strange in that.” 

“Why couldn’t we fetched down our war 
steeds and gone wid him?” 

“He wouldn’t allow it; we should be too 
much in his way, and we couldn’t keep up with 
him for more than a few miles.” 

“Dunno ’bout dat; Jilk and Firebug don’t 
take de dust ob any other animiles.” 

Jethro thus alluded to the horse owned by 
himself and the mare which was the favorite 
of his master. 

“That may be so, Jeth, but we expect to 
ride our horses all the way to California, while 
Alec will change his every ten or twelve 
miles.” 

“Can’t we do de same?” 

“How?” 

“Why, ebery ten miles I’ll get into de saddle 
ob Firebug, and you kin get into de saddle 
ob Jilk: dat will be changing bosses.” 

Alden looked at Jethro. The colored lad 
tried to keep a sober face, but had to duck 
his head and chuckle. He might be slow- 
witted, but he was not in earnest in making 
his proposition. 


A QUARREL 


29 


Alden made a feint of chastising the Af- 
rican, who caught hold of his flapping hat 
to keep it on and dived three or four paces 
away. Just then several cheers came from 
the ferry, and Alden withdrew his attention 
from his companion. Thus he stood, his back 
toward the negro, when it suddenly seemed 
to him that a runaway horse had collided with 
his shoulder. 

The blow knocked Alden toward the mid- 
dle of the street, his hat falling, as he strove 
desperately to keep his feet and barely suc- 
ceeded. The next instant, as he replaced 
his hat, he turned hurriedly around to learn the 
cause of the shock. 

A youth about his own age and size had 
violently bumped him. Alden was quick tem- 
pered and flamed with anger. The young 
man, whom he had never seen before, said 
something, but in his blind rage our friend 
did not catch the words. 

“What do you mean by doing that?” he 
demanded, doubling his flsts and striding to- 
ward the stranger, whose smile added oil to the 
flames. The other held his ground and seemed 
to catch the hot resentment of Alden. 

“I can’t say I meant anything in particu- 


30 


RACING FOR LIFE 


lar, my red-faced friend; what are you going 
to do about it?” 

“I’ll mighty soon show you,” replied Alden, 
who, without an instant’s hesitation, launched 
his right fist at the face of the other; but he 
neatly dodged the blow and delivered so sting- 
ing a one on the cheek of Alden that he reeled 
for several paces. The single repulse did not 
scare the assailant, however, but made him 
more cautious. His antagonist was lithe and 
actiye, and coolly awaited the second assault, 
which , you may be sure was not as blind as 
before. 

The Express Rider ha\dng gone upon the 
ferry boat, the attention of the crowd was 
shifted to the two youths, confronting each 
other with doubled fists and savage coun- 
tenances. 

“A fight! a fight!” was shouted, and men 
and boys swarmed around the couple, taking 
care to keep far enough back to give them 
plenty of room. 

It was quickly evident that he whom Alden 
had attacked was a stranger to every one in 
the crowd. None the less, it was equally evi- 
^ dent that some sympathized with him, although 
the majority were with Alden. 


A QUARREL 


61 


“Give it to him, Payne! Knock him out!” 

“Look out for yourself!” called a tall man 
to the unknown; “Alden is a fighter from 
Fight Town, at the head of Fight River; keep 
your eye peeled!” 

“I’ll help you soak him!” added Jethro, 
bounding to the side of his master, putting 
up his big hands, see-sawing with them, duck- 
ing his head, and making several feints from 
a safe distance. 

“Keep out of the way!” commanded Alden; 
“I don’t want your help.” 

“Can’t get along widout me; you knock him 
oher and I’ll stomp on him and smash — ” 

His impatient master made a vigorous sweep 
with his hand which tumbled Jethro on his 
back, with his shoes kicking toward the sky. 

“All right!” exclaimed the African, clam- 
bering to his feet; “den I’ll help de oder fel- 
ler.” 

And he ran across and assumed a fighting 
attitude. 

“It’s time to teach A1 some sense — ” 

But the stranger was equally impatient, and 
made a similar back-handed stroke which sent 
the colored lad down again. 

“Keep away or you’ll get hurt,” he warned. 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Gorrynation ! if dat’s de way I’m treated 
I’ll lick hofe of you!” 

And in order the better to carry out his 
threat, he began fiercely doffing his coat. He 
made a great pretense of hurrying, but, be- 
fore he could shed the garment, a man stand- 
ing near seized him by the arm and yanked 
him back with a force that came near throwing 
him to the ground again. 

“What’s the matter with you. Mix? ’tend 
to your own business.” 

This same person afterward remarked: 

“I noticed that it didn’t take much pulling 
to keep that darky out of the muss.” 

The briers being cleared from the path, the 
two combatants now came together. The 
stranger did not retreat, when Alden quickly 
but guardedly approached, and after a couple 
of feints landed a blow fair and square on his 
cheek that staggered him. He held his feet, 
however, and advanced again. The two would 
have closed the next minute, with the result 
in doubt, but an unlooked for interruption 
came. A loud voice demanded: 

“What do you mean, Ross?” 

And without waiting for an answer, a tall 


A QUARREL 


man, with bearded face and dressed in rough 
homespun, strode forward. With his right 
hand he flung back the youth whom he had 
addressed, and in the same moment did the 
same to Alden with the other hand. His black 
eyes shone with anger. 

“You young fools! I ought to spank both 
of you, and I’ll do it, if either strikes another 
blow. Off with you, Ross!” 

If the youth called “Ross” felt no fear of 
Alden Payne, he held the man in awe. He 
dropped his hands, though they remained 
clenched, and tried to make excuse. 

“He attacked me, uncle; haven’t I a right 
to defend myself?” 

“How is that?” sternly asked the man, turn- 
ing upon Alden. 

“He pushed me almost off my feet, and in- 
stead of apologizing, added an insulting re- 
mark.” 

“He is speaking false,” said the nephew. 

“Probably you are right,” commented the 
man, who evidently had faith in the veracity 
of his nephew, “but there has been enough of 
this; come with me.” 

“I hope you will let us flght it out,” said 
3 


34 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden, keenly regretting the interference; ‘‘I 
should like to give him a lesson in speaking the 
truth.” 

“Please let us finish,” pleaded the other, 
with a beseeching look to his relative. Cer- 
tainly there was no questioning the courage of 
either young man. 

“Yes; let ’em settle it,” added one of the 
bystanders, uttering the sentiments of the 
spectators; “the fight will be a thing of 
beauty.” 

Others joined in the request, but the man 
paid no heed. He did not lay his hand on 
his nephew, but merely said, “Come,” and 
strode off in the direction of the river. The 
youth walked reluctantly after, him. Look- 
ing back at Alden, he paused a moment, shook 
his fist and said : 

“We’ll meet again some day and have it 
out.” 

“That will suit me down to the ground,” re- 
plied Alden, emphasizing his words also with 
a gesture of his fist. 

“Gorrynation!” said Jethro, after the 
stranger was at a distance, “but it was lucky 
for bofe of you dat dese four men held me 
back. When I git mad, I’m orful, and if I’d 


A QUARREL 


35 


got at you, dere wouldn’t anyting been left 
’cept a couple of grease spots.” 

This boast caused uproarious laughter. 
Jethro looked around in the faces of the crowd 
and asked reprovingly: 

“What you all laughing at? What’s de 
matter wid you, Tony Burke? If yo’ doan’ 
shet up straight off. I’ll frow you down so 
hard you’ll make a bulge on toder side de 
yarth.” 

This warning was addressed to a lad about 
the size of Alden. He was a clerk in a St. 
Joe grocery store, and known to everybody. 
His merriment was more boisterous than any- 
body else’s. The instant the threat was ut- 
tered, however, his face became sober. He 
took a step forward. 

“Are you talking to me?'^ he demanded, and 
an instant hush fell on the bystanders. 

“Yas, I is; doan’ you hyar me? Is you 
deef? You’s getting too sassy. Tone Burke; 
you need taking down a peg or two, and Fm 
de gemman dat am gwine to doot.” 

“I’m your apple tart; put up your fists.” 

“Who said anyting ’bout fists? I was talk- 
ing ’bout wrastlin’ ; if your head warn’t so thick 
you’d understood me.” 


36 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Very well; I prefer fists, but I’ll wrestle.” 

‘'Fus' holtr shouted Jethro, his face light- 
ing up with a grin at the advantage thus 
gained by his promptness. 

“Suit yourself,” calmly replied the other. 

Both were right-handed. Jethro because of 
his call secured the choice as to which side he 
should take, when they made ready for the 
struggle. Naturally, he placed himself on 
the left of his antagonist, and slipped the right 
arm behind his neck, with the hand over the 
farther shoulder. The white youth assumed a 
reverse position, making his left arm take the 
place of the other’s right. 

Thus the right hand of the white youth and 
the left hand of the African were free. The 
two loosely gripped hands in front, for be it 
remembered the method described was the old 
fashioned way of wrestling, and is still popu- 
lar in many parts of the country. 

Alden Payne’s anger was wafted aside by 
the new turn of matters, and the eyes of all 
were fixed upon the couple. Alden took upon 
himself the duty of umpire. 

“Are you ready, Tony?” he called. 

“Ready,” was the reply. 

“Ready, Jeth?” 


A QUARREL 37 

‘‘Ise allers ready; you oughter know dat, 
Al— ” 

Before he could end his sentence, his big 
feet shot upward as high as his head had been 
a moment before. The white youth with fine 
dexterity flung off the grasp of Jethro in the 
same instant, and he went down on his back 
with an impact that seemed to shake the earth 
and forced a loud grunt from him. 

“First fall for Tony!” called Alden; 
“change holds!” 

“Dat warn’t fair,” protested Jethro, as he 
clambered to his feet. 

“Why wasn’t it fair?” asked the umpire. 

“I warn’t ready.” 

“You said you were; change holds.” 

“I won’t wrestle if I’ve got to use my left 
arm.” 

“That’s the rule of the game; you must do 
it.” 

“I’m satisfied,” said the grinning Tony, 
who, before Jethro could back out, slid his left 
arm behind the burly neck of the African. In 
the same instant, the struggle was renewed 
with all the cunning, power and skill of which 
the two were masters. 

Tony did not find his task as easy as before. 


38 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Jethro was certainly a powerful youth, fully 
the equal of the other, but was slower of move- 
ment. He baffled two or three attempts to 
take him unawares, and then tried hard to lift 
Tony clear so as to fling him helpless to the 
ground. The white youth skillfully prevent- 
ed. Then Jethro placed one foot behind the 
knees of the other, intending to force him over. 
It was a fatal mistake, for it left Jethro stand" 
ing on one foot only. In the twinkling of an 
eye, as may be said, he went down precisely as 
before, and with as terrific a bump. But he 
grinned as he climbed to his feet and called 
out triumphantly: 

“DaFs de way I allers fetches ’em; I frows 
myself on my back and dey re goneT 


CHAPTER III 


WESTWARD BOUND 

T he “Southern Overland Mail” was the 
first transcontinental stage line in this 
country, and probably the longest continuous 
run ever operated in the world. It lacked 241 
miles of an even three thousand. The ter- 
minal points were St. Louis and San Fran- 
cisco. From each of these cities a coach start- 
ed at the same hour, the first setting out on 
September 15, 1858. In order to avoid the 
stupendous snows in the Rocky JMountains, 
the course was made far to the southward, by 
way of El Paso, Yuma and Los Angeles. At 
first the schedule time was twenty-five days, 
soon shortened by two days. The quickest 
run ever made was twenty-one days. 

This enterprise required more than a hun- 
dred Concord coaches, 1,000 horses, 500 mules, 
150 drivers and 600 other employes. It led 
through flaming deserts for nearly half the 
way, where the deadly sandstorm, the tortur- 
39 


40 


RACING FOR LIFE 


ing thirst and the sleepless enmity of Indians 
were a constant menace to the traveler. The 
vast scheme was that of John Butterfield, who 
did more than any other man in his peculiar 
conquest of the West. 

For upward of two years and a half this 
line was in operation. Then came the Civil 
War, which compelled the course to shift far- 
ther north, and combat the Arctic cold and 
snows. The new route was from St. Joe to 
Placerville, the start being made from each of 
those points on July 1, 1861. The opening of 
the Pony Express was really intended to force 
this change of route, so as to make it lead 
through Denver and Salt Lake City. Ben 
Holladay had a stage route running tri-weekly 
to Denver and weekly to Salt Lake. He se- 
cured the mail contract from the Missouri 
River to Salt Lake, while the old southern 
route folks covered the run between Salt Lake 
City and Sacramento. 

As regards the freighting business, the fig- 
ures are beyond comprehension. The regular 
size of one of the freighting trains was twen- 
ty-five ‘‘prairie schooners,” each with from six 
to twelve yoke of oxen. The immense Cones- 
toga or Pittsburg or Pennsylvania wagons 


WESTWARD BOUND 


41 


were often six feet deep and seventeen feet 
long, flaring out from the bottom to the 
round covered top. They cost from a thou- 
sand to fifteen hundred dollars apiece; the 
mules, which had to be of the best, ranged 
from $500 to $1,000 a pair. Thus a ten-mule 
team was sometimes worth $7,000 per wagon, 
without including provisions, salaries and 
minor items. At one time, the single Arm of 
Russell, Majors & Waddell had in service 
6,250 of these huge wagons, and 75,000 oxen, 
more than were operating in all the rest of the 
United States. 

Since our interest henceforward lies with 
the Pony Express, a few more preliminary 
words must be given to that unique enterprise. 
It has been said that the shortest time trip 
made by the Butterfield route was twenty-one 
days between San Francisco and New York. 
The Pony Express immediately cut this time 
in half, an achievement which ranks among 
the greatest of the last century.* 

* In 1859, Ben Holladay had sixteen large steamers running 
between San Francisco and Panama, Oregon, China and Japan, 
operated 5,000 miles of daily stage coaches, with 500 coaches 
and express wagons, 500 freight wagons, 5,000 horses and 
mules with oxen beyond counting. His harness alone cost 
$55,000 and his feed bill $1,000,000 annually. The govern- 


RACING FOR LIFE 


In order to meet the demand upon the origi- 
nators of the system it was necessary to have 
nearly five hundred horses specially fitted for 
the work. Along the long, dangerous route, 
one hundred and ninety stations were estab- 
lished, and eighty sober, skilful, daring riders 
were hired. They had to be of light weight, 
since every pound counted. At certain 
stretches, where the danger was not great from 
Indians, the riders carried only their revolvers 
and knives, in order to save the weight of a 
rifle. The mail pouches, as has been stated, 
were not permitted to weigh more than twenty 
pounds. The most famous of the Pony Ex- 
press riders was William F. Cody, or ‘‘Buffalo 
Bill.’’ This remarkable man was found when 
weighed at a certain time to tip the scales at 
a hundred and sixty pounds. This, according 
to regulations, debarred him from service as 
a rider, but because of his fine qualities, an ex- 
ception was made in his case. 

Each rider had to cover a third of a hundred 
miles on the average. He used three ponies in 

merit paid him a million dollars each year in mail contracts. 
He was greatly crippled in 1864-66 by the Indians, who burned 
many of his stations and ’killed scores of employees. In the 
latter part of 1866, Holladay sold out all his interests to 
Wells Fargo & Co. 


WESTWARD BOUND 


43 


doing so, but conditions often arose in which 
horse and rider had greatly to exceed this 
amount of work. 

In the month of May, 1860, a caravan of 
emigrants was slowly making its way through 
what was then the Territory of Nebraska. It 
was following the southern bank of the Platte 
River, and was still more than a hundred miles 
from Julesburg, just over the border in Colo- 
rado. The train was smaller than most of 
those which crossed the plains during those 
years when the lure of gold still drew men 
and their families from every quarter of the 
globe. The outfit consisted of six Conestoga 
wagons, each with six span of oxen, no mules, 
eight horses and twelve men, two-thirds of 
them with wives and from one to five children. 
In addition to the men, two youths, not quite 
grown, rode with them. One was Alden 
Payne and the other his African servant, 
Jethro Mix. 

The head of the party, which was bound to 
California, was Abner Fleming — a middle- 
aged man, with a wife, but no children. He 
was an old acquaintance of Hugh Payne, the 
father of Alden, and willingly took the two 
youths under his charge while making the long 


44 


RACING FOR LIFE 


journey. They were strong, willing to work, 
of cheerful minds, fine horsemen, and, as I 
have said, each knew how to use a rifie. 

During the months of waiting, after the 
departure of Mr. Payne, wife and daughter, 
for the Pacific coast, our young friends had 
plenty of time in which to prepare for the un- 
dertaking. Of course, they saw to it that they 
had plenty of ammunition. Their rifies were 
muzzle-loaders, with percussion caps, but they 
used the conical bullet, and Alden had learned 
long before to shoot from the saddle with his 
horse on a run. Jethro Mix did well while 
standing, but he insisted that it was too 
“blamed bothersome” to hit anything when his 
horse was trotting or galloping. 

The extra clothing and few necessary ar- 
ticles were placed in the wagon of Mr. Flem- 
ing, and, as was the custom, each vehicle 
carried quite a lot of provisions, though the 
owners counted on shooting a good deal of 
game on the way — an expectation that was not 
disappointed. 

Among the men making up the company 
was only one in whom we feel special interest. 
He was a massive fellow, six feet in height, of 
vast frame and prodigious strength. His 


WESTWARD BOUND 


45 


heavy beard was grizzled, but under his shaggy 
brows the little gray eyes seemed at times to 
sparkle with fire. He wore a sombrero, with 
a fringed hunting shirt, leggings and mocca- 
sins, and rode a powerful, bony Indian horse, 
larger than any animal in the train. The 
beast was not only tough and strong, but ca- 
pable of good speed and great endurance. 

None of the acquaintances of this singular 
person had ever heard him called by any other 
name than “Shagbark.” It was known that 
he was a native of the Ozark region, and had 
spent years with the American Fur Company, 
as trapper and hunter. From some cause he 
quarreled with those above him, and left their 
employ three or four years before we find him 
acting as guide for the emigrant train of Ab- 
ner Fleming. 

Shagbark had trapped many winters far 
up among the wild solitudes of the Rockies, 
and was so familiar with the overland route 
that none could be better qualified than he to 
lead a party over the plains. It may seem odd 
that though he had spent so much time in the 
West, and was there during the height of the 
gold excitement, he never passed beyond Salt 
Lake City. Many of his old friends urged 


46 


RACING FOR LIFE 


him to join them in a trip to the diggings, but 
the stubborn old fellow shook his head. He 
preferred to fight Indians and cold and hunger 
for the sake of a few peltries, whose sale 
brought enough to support him in idleness be- 
tween trapping seasons. 

Shagbark was a peculiar character. He 
was fond of smoking a brier wood pipe, and 
often rode for hours without speaking a word 
to anyone, or giving the slightest attention 
when addressed. Mr. Fleming had hired him 
as a guide to Salt Lake, where it would be 
necessary to engage some one to take his 
place. When the trapper was asked to name 
his charge he growled: 

“One hundred dollars a month in gold and 
found.” 

“Very well; I am willing to pay you each 
month in advance.” 

“I want it when it’s aimed; ye’d be a fool 
to pay it afore.” 

Nothing more was said on the subject. 
Shagbark crumpled up some dry fragments 
from a plug of tobacco, in the palm of his 
hand, punched them into the bowl of his pipe, 
switched a match along the side of his buck- 


WESTWARD BOUND 


47 


skins, applied the tiny flame, and rode to the 
head of the company without another word. 

He always carried a long-barrelled rifle 
across his saddle in front, with a formidable 
Colt’s revolver at his hip. A keen hunting 
knife was an indispensable part of his equip- 
ment. Beyond telling Fleming and his com- 
panions that they were sure to have plenty of 
trouble before reaching Salt Lake, he made 
no further reference to the matter. He gen- 
erally kept some distance in advance of the 
company and maintained a sharp watch of the 
country on all sides. 

Shagbark was a man of moods. The sec- 
ond night after crossing the Missouri, when 
the wagons had been placed in a circle, the 
animals allowed to browse on the luxuriant 
grass, so well guarded that they could not wan- 
der afield, he came back and sat down among 
the group that were eating from the food 
spread on a blanket. He was so talkative that 
all were astonished. He laughed, chuckled, 
and went so far as to relate some of his strange 
experiences in the wild regions of the North- 
west. He took special notice of Alden 
Payne. Sitting beside him, cross-legged on 


48 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the ground, he asked the youth his name, where 
he was from and how he came to be with the 
party heading for the other side of the con- 
tinent. 

“I rather like yer looks, younker,” added the 
grim old trapper; “I hope ye’ll git through 
right side up and scoop more gold than yer 
boss can carry.” 

“I haven’t any idea of that,” replied Alden, 
proud that he should have caught the pleased 
attention of this veteran of the plains. 

The conversation went on with no particu- 
lar point to it, and before it was late, the 
guard was set f^r the night, while the others 
turned in to sleep. Shagbark explained that 
they were not yet far enough out on the plains 
to be in much danger, though he had had more 
than one scrap with the redskins still farther 
to the east. But he insisted that a strict 
watch should be set each night. The training 
was needed in view of what was sure to come 
later on. 

Having had so pleasant a chat with Shag- 
bark, Alden naturally expected pleasant at- 
tention from him. He waited till the man 
had lighted his pipe and ridden a hundred 


WESTWARD BOUND 


49 


yards ahead, when the youth twitched the rein 
of Firebug and galloped up beside him. 

“Good morning, Shagbark; it looks as if 
we shall have another fine day.” 

The guide puffed his pipe without answer- 
ing or so much as glancing at the young man. 
Alden said a few more things, but he might 
as well have addressed a boulder, for all the 
notice they received from the guide. Morti- 
fied and resentful, the lad checked his mare 
and held her until joined by Jethro and the 
others. 

“He’s the queerest man I ever saw,” he said 
to the African; “I can’t ^t a word out of 
him.” 

“Ob course not; I found dat out de fust day, 
when I axed him how old he was, what war 
de name ob his fader and mother, wheder he 
was married or engaged and who he war gwine 
to wote fur as President, and some more sich 
trifles.” 

“I don’t wonder that he paid no attention 
to you. I shall let him alone after this.” 

Three nights later, however, Shagbark was 
overtaken again by one of his genial moods, 
and won the good opinion of all by his jollity. 

4 


50 


RACING FOR LIFE 


He chatted with Alden as if they had always 
been the closest of friends, but the youth was 
alert. The next morning found the guide as 
glum as ever. He took his place well beyond 
the train, with the blue whiffs drifting first 
over one shoulder and then over the other, and 
Alden did not intrude. 

Thus matters stood on the afternoon of a 
bright day, when the company was slowly 
making its way westward along the Platte 
River. The oxen plodded on, easily dragging 
the heavy loads, for traveling was much bet- 
ter than it would be found farther on. The 
country was level, and every morning seemed 
to bring a deepening of color and an increase 
of verdure. So long as this lasted the ani- 
mals would not have to forage or draw upon 
the moderate supply of hay and grain that had 
been brought from the States. 

Few of the men kept their saddles through- 
out the day. It was too tiresome for horses 
and riders. The latter sometimes walked for 
houri^ or climbed into the lumbering wagons 
and rode behind the oxen. The children, of 
whom there were more than a score of differ- 
ent ages, delighted to play hide and seek, 
chasing one another over the prairie and then 


WESTWARD BOUND 


51 


tumbling into the rear of the vehicles, where 
their merry shouts were smothered by the can- 
vas covers which hid them from sight. 

Alden and Jethro had tramped for two 
hours and were again in the saddle, their 
horses on a walk. Alden was surprised when, 
as they gathered up the reins, his companion 
heaved a profound sigh. He did not speak, 
and a few minutes later repeated the inspira- 
tion. Glancing across, the perplexed youth 
asked : 

“What’s the matter with you, Jeth?” 

“I wish I could tell,” he anWered, with a 
more prodigious intake than before. 

“What’s to hinder you?” said the other, not 
a little amused. 

“I’m carryin’ an orful secret.” 

“Seems to weigh you down a good deal; 
do you wish to tell me?” 

“Dat’s what I oughter do, but I hain’t got 
de courage, Al; it’s been on my mind two, free 
times, and I started in to let you know, but 
I’se afeard.” 

“Afraid of what?” 

“Ob your 

It was hard for Alden to restrain his laugh- 
ter. He had not the remotest idea of what 


52 


RACING FOR LIFE 


was in the mind of Jethro, and it must be con- 
fessed felt little curiosity to know. Under- 
standing the fellow as he did, he could not be- 
lieve that the ‘‘secret” which was bearing so 
heavily upon him, was of any account. 

“I’ll promise not to punish you, no matter 
what it is.” 

“But you doan’ know what it am.” 

“Of coui'se; that’s why I’m inviting you to 
tell me.” 

“But when I do tell, den what?” 

“Haven’t I promised that no matter what 
it is, I shan’t punish you, provided you make 
a clean breast of it.” 

“You wouldn’t say dat if you knowed.” 

“Have you killed anybody, Jethro?” asked 
Alden in the most solemn voice he could as- 
sume. 

“Bress your heart, no ! what put dat sarcum- 
flexous idee in your head?” 

“Have you been stealing anything?” 

“Neber stole even a watermillion in all nay 
life.” 

“Because, when you were round, the own- 
ers watched their property too closely to give 
you a chance.” 


WESTWARD BOUND 


5S 


Jethro’s eyes seemed to bulge more than 
ever. He said in a husky undertone : 

“Al, it am wuss dan dem two tings to- 
geder.” 

‘‘Ah, I know, then, what it is.” 

“WHAT?” 

“You have been smoking cigarettes; you 
look pale round the gills.” 

“Pshaw! what’s de matter wid you?” mut- 
tered Jethro disgustedly; “you talk as if you 
didn’t hah no sense.” 

“I am trying to suit my words to you. See 
here, Jeth, I am tired of all this; if you wish 
to tell me anjdhing, I have assured you there 
is nothing to fear in the way of consequences 
from me. If that doesn’t satisfy you, keep 
the matter to yourself.” 

“If dat’s de way you talks. I’ll hah to wait 
a while; daresn’t unburden my mind now; 
mebbe I’ll let you know to-night.” 

“I don’t care enough to ask it.” 

And yet, strange as it may seem, Jethro 
Mix did carry a secret, which, had he made it 
known to his friend, would have had a marked 
effect upon his subsequent life. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE DANGER CLOUD 

T he emigrant train to which our young 
friends belonged ran into bad weather, 
while crossing northeastern Kansas, and again 
before reaching Fort Kearny, in Nebraska. 
A cold, drizzling rain set in which made peo- 
ple and animals so uncomfortable that a halt 
of nearly two days was made. The oxen and 
horses cropped the lush grass which grew ex- 
uberantly, and their masters spent most of 
the time in the big covered wagons, where they 
were protected from the chilling storm. Some 
read the few books and newspapers brought 
with them, a number played cards, smoked and 
exchanged reminiscences, yawned and longed 
for the skies to clear. 

During the whole period, Shaghark was in 
one of his grumpy moods, and rarely passed 
a word with any one. One night he told Mr. 
Fleming the weather would clear before morn- 
ing. He proved to he right, as every one ex- 
54 


THE DANGER CLOUD 


55 


pected, and the cavalcade resumed its plodding 
tramp westward. 

Then for days the weather was perfect. 
The sun shone from the clear blue heavens, 
undecked except here and there by a rift of 
snowy cloud. The air was bright and clear, 
with just enough crispness to make walking 
or riding pleasant. The country was level or 
rolling. The eye, wandering over every point 
of the compass, caught no misty mountain 
range or peak, and the work of the patient 
oxen was play compared to what it would be 
when they should have entered the rougher re- 
gions farther toward the setting sun. 

The course most of the time was in sight of 
the Platte River, which, swollen by the melt- 
ing snows near the headwaters and the recent 
rains, was a broad, majestic stream. Yet 
there were times during the summer drought, 
when one could pick his way across dry shod. 
More than once, as the company went into 
camp, they saw the twinkling fires of another 
party who had also halted for the night. 
Once these starlike points glimmered to the 
south, once to the northwest and twice to the 
north, on the other side of the Platte. When 
it is stated that more than 40,000 persons 


56 


RACING FOR LIFE 


crossed the plains in 1849, and that later 500 
wagons were counted in one day as they lum- 
bered past Fort Kearny, the wonder is that 
more trains did not meet and mingle. This 
was often done when a common danger threat- 
ened from Indians. 

Jethro Mix and Alden Payne, with their 
ponies on a walk, were riding side by side, and 
the colored youth had just made his decision 
not to reveal at that time the secret which 
weighed so heavily upon him, when his friend 
exclaimed : 

‘‘Helloa, Jeth! do you see that?” 

In answer to his inquiring look, Alden, who 
had turned part way round in his saddle, point- 
ed to the rear. Far in the distance, a dark 
object was seen, which was quickly recognized 
as a horseman coming with his animal on a 
dead run. He was not in a direct line behind 
the train, but a little to the south. If he kept 
to his course he would pass a couple of hun- 
dred yards to the south. 

On he came with his half-breed pony run- 
ing as if a hundred lives were at stake. He 
made swift, tremendous leaps, his thin neck 
outstretched, his flowing tail streaming 
straight behind, with his nose extended, as he^ 


THE DANGER CLOUD 


57 


strained every muscle to reach his destination 
without the loss of a minute. His rider was 
a small man, weighing not more than a hun- 
dred and twenty pounds, and his riding re- 
vealed a master of the art. He leaned slight- 
ly forward in the saddle, the front of his hat 
standing straight up as if plastered against 
his forehead, the ends of the handkerchief 
looped about his neck fluttering in the gale 
caused by his own swiftness, while he occa- 
sionally pricked the ribs of his horse with his 
spurs, though such urgency was hardly 
needed. 

As he flashed opposite, the rhythmic thump 
of the pony’s hoofs on the sod was heard by 
the emigrants, all of whom were gazing at 
man and animal. The former’s garments 
fitted so snugly that only the fringes over and 
back of the shoulders, and those on the thighs 
quivered. The trousers were thrust into the 
tops of his boots, whose heels were high and 
pointed, and after the fashion among cowmen 
and plainsmen. 

The watchers identified his character at once, 
and needed not the sight of the broad flat flaps 
fastened across the saddle, one in front and 
the other behind him. He glanced toward the 


58 


RACING FOR LIFE 


train, and observing all eyes upon him, raised 
a hand in salutation, but did not speak or make 
any further acknowledgment of the cheers. 
In a twinkling the emigrants were gazing 
upon his back, the ends of the fluttering hand- 
kerchief, fringes of clothing, streaming tail 
and flying hoofs of the pony, which flung 
chunks of earth into the air as he skimmed 
av/ay on the wings of the wind. 

“A Pony Express Rider!” said Alden; 
“how he goes!” 

“How long hab he been doing it?” asked 
Jethro. 

“From the station five miles back, and he’ll 
keep it up till he reaches the next station far- 
ther on.” 

“What den?” 

“He’ll shift his saddle and mail bags to a 
pony that is waiting, and then gallop at the 
same headlong speed for ten or twelve miles 
more, and change again unless that is the end 
of his run. This isn’t the first time, Jeth, 
we have seen those men riding like mad, and 
we are likely to see many more before we get 
sight of the Pacific.” 

“I didn’t obsarve dat he carried a rifle.” 

“He had none, but a few of the riders carry 


THE DANGER CLOUD 


59 


them ; this one doesn’t think he is likely to need 
any, and so he lightens the load of his horse 
that much. Shagbark managed to say a few 
words to me last night, and one thing he told 
me was that the Pony Express riders some- 
times miss it in not taking a rifle with them. 
They are so anxious to make schedule time 
that they run into danger. It often happens 
that when they most need a gun they haven’t 
it. I hope that fellow won’t be caught in such 
a flx.” 

“Gorrynation ! don’t he trabbel? Why 
can’t we do de same ting, Al?” 

“If we could change horses every ten or 
twelve miles, we might keep it up for a day 
at a time, but we should have to have two or 
three hundred horses waiting for us at the dif- 
ferent stations,” observed Alden, thinking to 
close the argument. 

“How would it do fur us to ride ahead and 
flx it dat way? Den we could come back and 
skim ober de kentry like a couple ob muskeet- 
ers.” 

“After we had placed our ponies at the last 
station this side of Sacramento, what should 
we gain by coming here and going over the 
ground a second time?” 


60 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Jethro lifted his well worn hat and scratched 
his head. 

“Dat’s so; I didn’t tink oh dat; blamed queer 
how it slipped my mind — what’s de matter wid 
Shagbark?” 

Before the flying horseman vanished in the 
distance, the emigrant train resumed its slow 
progress. The massive guide, on the back of 
his gaunt steed, kept his place well in advance. 
Often he went for hours without looking back 
to note in what order the company were fol- 
lowing him, but now he had turned like Alden 
did a few minutes before, and, without check- 
ing his steed or shifting his course, was gazing 
fixedly to the rear. His brierwood was be- 
tween his lips, and from the thicket of whis- 
ker and mustache the blue vapor issued as if 
from the funnel of a small steamcraft. 

At the moment the two youths looked at 
him, he raised one of his huge hands and beck- 
oned. 

“His eyes are on us,” said Alden. 

“He’s looking at me,” added Jethro; “he 
feels bad at de way he snubbed me jest arter 
we started, and means to apolergize; he don’t 
want you; notice now. Gee up, Jilk!” 

The negro twitched the rein, and his pony 


THE DANGER CLOUD 


61 


struck a moderate trot. He had not crossed 
a fourth of the intervening distance, when the 
guide thundered: 

“NO! I don’t want ye, ye black imp! Stay 
whar ye are! Young Payne is the chap I 
meant; why don’t ye come when I tell ye to 
come?” 

The laughing youth spoke to his mare, and 
hurried forward. 

“Wal, if he ain’t the mos’ umbrageous rap- 
scallion dat eber trod on two legs,” growled 
Jethro as his friend passed him, hurrying to 
answer Shagbark’s call. 

Acquainted by this time with the moods of 
the old trapper, Alden did not speak as he 
drew up beside him, but waited to learn what 
he had in mind. 

‘T want ye to keep with me a while,” re- 
marked Shagbark, who had checked his ani- 
mal and now resumed his progress on a walk; 
“I’ve something to say to ye.” 

“I’m listening.” 

“Have ye obsarved anything ’tickler?” 

Uncertain what was meant, the youth re- 
plied : 

“I can’t say that I have; what do you 
mean?” 


62 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Ye carry a telescope by a cord round your 
neck ; ’spose ye use it.” 

Still in doubt, Alden brought the binocular 
round in front, and held it suspended with one 
hand. 

“In what direction shall I look?” 

“Anywhar ye choose, but thar’s no need of 
wastin’ time; p’int it ahead and a little to the 
left away from the river.” 

The lad raised the instrument and scanned 
a fourth of the horizon to the right and left. 
At first he saw only the broad, level sweep of 
plain, and was about to say so, when some- 
thing caught his eye. What seemed to be a 
half dozen or more specks flickered on the 
horizon, but even with the aid of the glass he 
could not make them out clearly and at first 
was in doubt. 

Shagbark kept his keen eyes on the youth. 
He knew from the expression on Alden’s face 
that he had discovered that which the other 
meant him to see. 

“Wal, what is it?” asked the guide. 

“I am not sure, but I think a party of horse- 
men are hovering along the bank of the river, 
a little way out on the prairie.” 

“Zactly; are they white or red?” 


THE DANGER CLOUD 63 

‘Tt is impossible to tell at so great a dis- 
tance.” 

“Onpossible fur ye; what good is that gim- 
crack of yers, anyway?” 

‘Tt shows me what I could not otherwise 
see.” 

‘T never use them things, but my eyes tell 
me a blamed sight more than that can tell ye ; 
them horsemen ye obsarved are In jins.” 

‘‘You have wonderful eyesight, Shagbark,” 
remarked Alden admiringly, again lifting the 
glass to his eyes and peering through them. 

“I can make out the horsemen quite plainly, 
but that is all.” 

“I seed ’em two hours ago and have been 
watching ’em ever since.” 

“That Express Rider that went by will run 
into them.” 

“No, he won’t; he ain’t such a fool; he’ll 
make a big sneak to the left and get past ’em; 
if it was among the mountains, he wouldn’t 
have half the chance, but he knows what to do 
and he’ll do it, as sure as ye are knee high 
to a grasshopper.” 

“Why do they keep so far from us?” asked 
Alden. 

“They don’t want us to see ’em, and they 


64 


RACING FOR LIFE 


hain’t any idee that we do, but,” chuckled the 
guide, “they don’t know old Shagbark has 
charge of these folks.” 

The old man seemed vastly pleased, and his 
massive shoulders bobbed up and down for a 
minute, while he puffed hard at his pipe. 

“Do you think they intend to bother us?” 
asked Alden. 

“No; I don’t think; I know it; we ain’t 
through with ’em; if they don’t pay us a visit 
to-night, we shall hear of ’em to-morrer night 
as sure as a gun.” 

“Why don’t they make an open attack, as 
I have been told the Indians often do?” 

“A red varmint never takes chances when 
he has a show of getting what he wants with- 
out it ; there ain’t ’nough of ’em to ride up and 
open fire ; don’t ye see that if they hold off till 
darkness, believing as how we haven’t an idee 
they’re within a thousand miles, and we ain’t 
keeping a lookout, they believe they can play 
thunder with us?” 

There was no questioning the truth of this 
theory. Alden slipped the cord which held 
the glasses over his head and handed them to 
the guide. 

“Try them; good as are your eyes, these will 


THE DANGER CLOUD 65 

help you.” But the old fellow shook his 
head. 

“I don’t need any of your new-fangled no- 
tions ; when my eyes go back on me, I’ll resign 
and hike over the divide.” 

Alden Payne was deeply interested in what 
he had been told. A crisis threatened in which 
under heaven all depended upon the sagacity 
of this veteran of the plains. The youth wait- 
ed for him to explain his intentions. 

“Ye see now the sense of my making some 
of the men stand guard every time we went 
into camp; they’ve been trained so they know 
how to do it; ye’ve had to take yer turn with 
the rest of ’em.” 

“And glad was I to do so; I hope you will 
use me to-night.” 

“Which is ’zactly what I’m going to do; 
that’s all I’ve got to say now; ride back to that 
thick-headed darky.” 

“Shall I tell him what you have lust said 
to me?” 

“I hain’t any ’bjections; it’ll probably scare 
him half white, but ye needn’t say anything 
to anybody else, ’cepting Fleming; tell him to 
come up hyar for a little talk on bus’ness with 
me.” 


5 


66 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden turned his mare about and galloped 
to where the leader of the company was riding 
beside another man, and told him Shagbark 
wished a few words with him. Fleming in- 
stantly moved forward, and was soon engaged 
in earnest conversation with the guide. 

“Wal, Al, did Shagbark ’spress sorrer fur 
the way he treated me?’’ asked Jethro, as his 
friend joined him. 

“Nothing of the kind; you may have noticed 
that I pointed my glasses toward the prairie 
ahead?” 

“Yas; I had my eye on you.” 

“Well, some miles off is a large party of 
Indians on horseback; they are keeping us in 
sight, but don’t think we know anything of 
them.” 

“Gorrynation!” gasped Jethro; “you don’t 
say so; what am dey gwine to do?” 

“Quite likely they will attack our camp to- 
night.” 

Jethro gasped again and nearly fell out of 
the saddle. 

“W-w-what we gwine to do?” he stam- 
mered. 

“Make the best fight we can; you can shoot 
pretty well, Jeth, and you may have a chance 


THE DANGER CLOUD 


67 


to prove your markmanship. Bear in mind, 
however, that when a painted warrior raises 
his gun to shoot you, you must fire before he 
does.” 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, the col- 
ored lad faltered : 

“You’s joking, Al; you don’t mean it suah.” 

‘Yery well, if you prefer to look upon it 
as a joke, do so, but it is likely to prove a seri- 
ous one to you and all of us.” 

‘‘Why don’t Shagbark turn de teams round 
and hurry back to St. Joe as fast as he kin, or 
to Fort Kearny or some place whar we has 
friends dat will took care oh us?” 

“We should make a fine show with our oxen 
dragging the heavy wagons; all the Indians 
are well mounted and can come up with us 
whenever they choose to do so.” 

“Let de oxen and wagons stay where dey 
am. 

“We haven’t enough horses to carry half 
the women and children.” 

“Can’t dey run?” 

Alden was silent a moment as if considering 
the suggestion of the sable youth. Finally 
he shook his head. 

“It won’t do, Jeth; they wouldn’t have half 


68 


RACING FOR LIFE 


a show ; the Indians would overtake the women 
and little ones before they could go more than 
a few hundred yards. No; we must stand our 
ground like men, keep cool and put up the best 
fight we can.” 

“’Spose de Injins lick us?” asked Jethro in 
a trembling voice. 

Alden shrugged his shoulders. 

“That will be the end; they won’t spare a 
man, woman or child ; you are the only colored 
member of the party and you know an Indian 
hates a black man like poison.” 

“Am you suah ob dat?” 

“I have been told so by those who know.” 

'“Why do dey feel dat way?” asked the 
scared youth. 

“I can’t explain it; they seem to have a deep 
prejudice against all American citizens of Af- 
rican descent. I have met some white men 
who feel the same way.” 

“Can’t you manage to explanify to de red 
gemman dat dar ain’t no reason for dar dis- 
like ob us colored folks?” 

“I am afraid that no explanation will help, 
Jeth; make up your mind, as I said, to put up 
the best fight you can and if you have to go 
down, do so with colors flying.” 


CHAPTER V 


ON GUAKD 

S HAGBARK kept continually scanning 
the horizon in all directions. It lacked an 
hour of sunset when the flickering forms to 
the northwest passed over the rim of vision. 
But the guide was not misled by the fact. 
He thought it likely that some of the red men, 
whose tribe he did not know, had galloped 
farther away, fearing they had been observed 
by the emigrants. Even in those days, the 
dusky rangers of the plains knew of the arti- 
ficial eyes used by the whites, which enabled 
them to see far beyond the unaided vision. 

The trapper rode some distance out on the 
plain, and made complete circuit of the camp. 
He studied every point of the compass and 
with his permission, Alden Payne was his 
companion on the brief ride. The company 
halted earlier than usual, and every prepar- 
ation was made against attack. 

Alden with his glass was no more successful 
69 


70 


RACING FOR LIFE 


than the glum old fellow, who used only the 
power that nature gave him. 

“I can’t catch a glimpse of them,” remarked 
the lad when the circuit was completed, and 
he lowered his instrument. 

‘‘Hooh! ye needn’t tell me that; if the var- 
mints was to be seed I’d seed ’em.” 

The six lumbering wagons were (kawn up 
in a circle, the space inside being abou\ a hun- 
dred feet across. In the center of this> fire 
was kindled from the driftwood brought from 
the bank of the Platte, where all the animals 
were allowed to drink, after which a number 
of vessels were filled and brought to camp. 
While the water was roiled and not specially 
attractive in appearance, no one felt any ob- 
jection to it. As one of the men remarked, 
it “beat a raging thirst all hollow.” 

Over the fire several of the women busied 
themselves boiling coffee and cooking venison 
from the game that was shot that morning. 
As has been intimated, the company carried a 
reserve of food, in the form of bread and 
jerked beef, but it was not thought prudent 
to draw upon it until no choice was left. 
There was an abundance of sugar, salt and 
various spices, and enough tea and coffee to 


ON GUARD 


71 


last the entire journey, provided it was not 
lengthened beyond expectation. 

When the fire had served its purpose it was 
allowed to sink. The night was so mild that 
the blaze was not needed for warmth. Every 
one had comfortable clothing, for they knew 
they would need it before reaching the coast. 
Soon after the meal was finished the children 
were bundled to bed. Three of the wagons 
w’^ere set apart for them and their mothers, the 
others being given over to the male members 
of the party. The parents were warned not 
only to keep the heads of the little ones below 
the upper edge of the wagon bodies, but to 
make sure that they did so themselves. So 
long as this caution was observed, they had lit- 
tle to fear, for the thick wood was arrow and 
bullet proof. 

It was comparatively early in the evening 
when Shagbark placed the guards. His plan 
was that six should act as sentinels until mid- 
night, when, if nothing occurred, they would 
give place to the same number, and retire to 
their quarters for the remainder of the night. 
As for Shagbark, he said he would be on duty 
until daylight. If when morning came, he 
found himself in need of sleep, he would lie 


7 ^ 


RACING FOR LIFE 


down for a short time in one of the wagons, 
but he didn’t expect to feel any drowsiness 
unless he was robbed of slumber for two or 
three nights in succession. 

Each of the six wagons was put under the 
charge of a single man, who was warned to 
be vigilant through every minute while on 
duty. They did not need to be told that their 
foes were the most cunning fighters in the 
world who were sure to try every possible 
trick upon them. 

“If ye see anything moving outside, shoot!” 
was Shaghark’s instruction to each: “no mat- 
ter if it is only a bunch of grass waving, bang 
away at it and ye’ll find it’s the head of a red- 
skin. If ye fall asleep when you wake up 
ye’ll put your hand on top of your head and 
discover yer skulp’s gone.” 

Since the sentinels could not pace to and 
fro, as is the usual custom, they were at much 
disadvantage in that respect, for we all know 
how insidious sleep is and how in many circum- 
stances it is impossible to fight it off. Shag- 
bark met this statement of the situation by 
Fleming thus : 

“Ye ain’t likely to begin snoring so long as 
ye keep on your feet. No matter how much 


ON GUARD 


73 


ye may feel like setting down or leaning up 
agin a wheel or side of a wagon, donft do it for 
so much as a minute. Ye can steal back and 
forth on the inside of the circle of wagons, fur 
that will help keep yer peepers peeled, but 
ba’rs and beavers! no man’s wuth shucks if he 
can’t stay awake till midnight, and them as 
comes on duty then will have had ’nough sleep 
to last ’em till daylight.” 

This sounded so reasonable that there was a 
general expression of confidence that none 
would find any difficulty in keeping full com- 
mand of his senses. 

Alden Payne felt complimented by the trust 
which the veteran showed in him. He led the 
youth to one of the wagons in which some of 
the mothers and their children had lain down. 
While approaching it, they heard the mur- 
mured prayers of the parents and the little 
ones. A tiny girl, known for her remarkable 
sweetness of voice, sang softly a hymn that 
she had learned at her mother’s knee. The 
words could not be distinguished, but when the 
soft tones, like those of an angel hovering 
near reached the couple, the trapper abruptly 
stopped and listened. The voice ceased the 
next minute and he sighed. Neither he nor 


74 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden spoke, but the soulful strains must have 
awakened some childhood’s remembrance in the 
breast of the old hunter. Alden even fancied 
when he raised his hand, that it was to brush 
away a tear from the eyes that were unused to 
weep. If so, Shagbark did not know his com- 
panion had noticed his action. 

“Hyar’s where ye’ll stand,” said the guide, 
lowering his voice, so as not to disturb anyone 
within the wagon; “I don’t have to tell ye that 
the favorite spot for them varmints to strike 
is where there’s only women and children; a 
good deal depends upon ye, younker.” 

“I shall do my duty,” quietly replied Alden. 

“You needn’t tell me that; a feller’s got only 
to look at ye to see the sort of stuff ye’re made 
of ; I like ye, younker.” 

Never had Shagbark uttered so pointed 
praise, and it sent a grateful thrill through the 
youth, who could not doubt the sincerity of the 
words. 

“Now ’bout that darky,” added the guide; 
“it won’t do to put any dependence on him/' 

“He means well, but I shouldn’t advise you 
to trust him too far.” 

“No fear of that, but he such a big, hulk- 
ing chap and eats so much that he oughter be • 


ON GUARD 


75 


made to do something; I’m going to put him on 
tother side of this wagon and make him b’leve 
it’s the most important post of all, and that if 
he drops asleep, the whole shebang will be 
wiped out by the redskins. Mebbe he’ll be 
able to stay awake hut I don’t b’leve it.” 

Shagbark walked as silently as a shadow to 
the middle of the circle, where the fire had 
sunk to smouldering embers. He had seen 
Jethro there some minutes before and as he 
expected found him sitting on the ground, 
upon which he had spread his blanket. The 
spot attracted the dusky youth, for it was 
farthest removed from the wagons, and was 
the safest place except the interior of the ve- 
hicles. He would have cuddled down there 
among the sleepers, had not Shagbark notified 
him that he had work for him to do. 

Jethro did not hear the soft footfall, but 
hastily climbed to his feet when the guide 
gruffly spoke to him : 

“Wal, younker, be ye ready?” 

‘Tse allers readdy to do my dooty; what is 
it you want, Mr. Shagbark?” 

“Ye know how ticklish things is to-night; 
we must all take turns in watching fur the red- 
skins that will be sure to try to steal in among 


76 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the wagons and skulp us all; ye are to stand 
guard till the middle of night, when some one 
else will take yer place, — that is if ye live to 
give ^em a chance/^ 

Jethro’s teeth rattled at these awful words. 

“Do you think, Mr. Shagbark, dey’s gwine 
to pitch into us?” 

“That’s what Injins seem built for; ye can 
feel powerful sartin that if we give ’em the 
chance they’ll grab it.” 

“Yas, sir,” replied the youth, as he gingerly 
followed the guide to the wagon where he had 
placed Alden Payne a short time before; “I 
wish I felt better.” 

Shagbark stopped abruptly and turned up- 
on him. 

“What’s the matter with ye?” 

“De fac’ is, Mr. Shagbark, I doan’ feel very 
well dis ebening: I hain’t felt well all day, — 
sorter ob a big pain in my innards.” 

He leaned over, pressing his hand against 
his side and groaning. 

“I observed that ye eat as much as me and 
young Payne together; don’t seem to affect 
yer appetite any.” 

“Dat’s de way it allers takes me; sometimes 


ON GUARD 


77 


I kin stop de pain — Oh! oh! — by swallering all 
de food I kin git hold of.” 

‘‘Ye won’t think anything about yer pain, 
when ye see a big Ingin stealing up out of 
the grass and making ready to skulp ye ; come 
on.” 

Jethro dared not refuse to obey the terrible 
fellow, and kept at his heels until they reached 
the wagon, where Alden grinningly awaited 
them. 

“Younker,” said the hunter in his rumbling 
voice; “being this the most dangerous p’int, 
I’m going to put two of ye here.” 

“A good plan, Shagbark; I never knew a 
fellow with better eyesight and ears than Jeth; 
between him and me, the red man will find it 
hard to steal upon us unawares.” 

“Whar — ^whar am I to stand?” faltered the 
negro. 

“Ye will stay right whar I place ye, — along- 
side of the left hand wheel of the wagon; the 
younker will hold his position clus to the right 
wheel; ye two will then have only the breadth 
of the wagon between ye; neither of ye must 
stir from the spot till I come round to bring 
some one else to take yer place. Do ye 


78 


RACING FOR LIFE 


understand?” he demanded of the terrified 
Jethro. 

“Yas, sir; I’ll do de best I kin; nobody can’t 
do no better dan dat.” 

‘‘And nobody asks you to do any better; 
wal, I reckon I’ve said ’nough.” 

And the guide moved away with his noise- 
less tread melting from sight in the gloom. 

It must be said of Jethro that although 
scared almost out of his senses, he was resolved 
to do his duty so far as it lay within him to do 
it. Even in his panic, he saw an advantage 
over the other sentinels. A wagon guarded 
by two persons must be twice as well protected 
as one under the care of a single person. Al- 
den was so watchful that he could be counted 
on to detect any approach of danger. Jethro 
was in the position of a man who had a reliable 
support in an enterprise involving great peril. 

The two stood so near each other that it was 
easy to converse in under tones. Within the 
Conestoga, all was still. The mothers and 
their children were sleeping, feeling secure in 
the protection of heaven and the strong and 
brave hearts around them. 

“Say, Al, am you dar?” asked Jethro in a 
husky, half -whisper, as he peeped round the 


ON GUARD 


79 


rim of the wheel at the figure dimly visible in 
the shadow, and almost within arm’s reach. 

‘‘I couldn’t well be anywhere else,” replied 
his master. 

“What do you think oh things?” 

“I think you and I have got to keep our 
eyes and ears open to-night, Jeth.” 

“Dat’s what I’m doing; do you think de 
In jins will come?” 

“You heard what Shagbark said; he knows 
a hundred times more about such matters than 
we do ; he and I certainly saw a party of them 
a few miles away on the prairie, and I haven’t 
any doubt that they are a good deal nearer to 
us now and coming nearer every minute.” 

“Gorry nation! Al, why didn’t you and me 
stay home?” 

“Because we came with Mr. Fleming and 
his company; you were as eager as I to cross 
the plains, and you were told all about the In- 
dians.” 

“Blame it all. I didn’t b’lebe dat stuff.” 

“I guess you believe it now, but, Jeth, I 
don’t think Shagbark wishes us to talk while 
we are on post.” 

“Nobody can’t hear us.” 

“It distracts our attention from our work; 


80 


RACING FOR LIFE 


better give your whole mind to the business we 
have in hand ; if you see anything that doesn’t 
look right, let me know.” 

“Berry well.” 

Now, you do not need to be told that one of 
the hardest things to do, is to stand still for 
an hour or two at a stretch. Even though you 
shift the weight from one foot to the other, 
the strain soon becomes unbearable, whereas a 
rugged man can find pleasure in pacing regu- 
larly to and fro after the manner of sentinels. 

“A feller mought as well be comfor’ble,” 
mused Jethro, leaning his rifle against the side 
of the wagon body, where he could snatch it 
up the instant needed. He next placed his 
elhow on the highest point of the broad tire 
of the large hind wheel, and rested his head 
upon his hand. His pose was made still easier 
by swinging one foot in front of the other 
ankle, and supporting it on the toe of his shoe. 

This posture was so agreeable that he was 
sure he could hold it for several hours without 
fatigue; but it is such poses that irks one the 
soonest. He changed the position of the feet, 
but found that rather awkward, so long as his 
elbow remained on the tire. By turning his 


ON GUARD 


81 


body round so that his back was toward the 
open plain, he could use his other elbow and 
the relief was pleasant. 

“Big idee,’’ he muttered to himself; “bime 
by when I git tired. I’ll swing round agin.” 

It certainly was a strange pose for a senti- 
nel, deliberately to turn his back away from 
the field from which danger threatened. Yet 
that is precisely what Jethro Mix did and his 
self explanation was not without some force: 

“If any ob de In jins try to sneak up, A1 
will be sure to see ’em; he’ll let me know in 
time to whirl ’bout and lambast ’em or — git out 
ob de way myself.” 

The neglectful guard found some comfort 
in another fact: he was gifted with an unusu- 
ally keen sense of hearing, and believed his 
ears would tell him as much as his eyes. In 
the circumstances, however, when it is remem- 
bered that absolute silence is one of the fea- 
tures of Indian subtlety, this was the gravest 
of mistakes. 

By and by, Jethro swung back and resumed 
his first position, shifting his feet again as be- 
fore. He stood so well toward the front that 
he could not see his friend, except by leaning 
6 


8 ^ 


RACING FOR LIFE 


forward and peering round the tail of the 
wagon. He took care to keep a position that 
shut him from Alden’s sight. 

“It’ll be jes’ like him to kick when he sees 
me standing with my back toward de In jins, 
and dere ain’t any use oh habing any quarrels 
at a time like dis.” 

When Jethro pivoted to the front for the 
third time, he held the position longer than 
usual. The situation was one which impressed 
even his dull nature. The moon near its 
full, had risen and shone upon the silent earth 
below. Ragged, white clouds swept slowly 
across the sky, like moving mountain peaks of 
snow. The orb was forever groping among 
these feathery masses, some of which were at- 
tenuated while others had enough body to 
eclipse the orb for a few minutes. This dodg- 
ing into view and out again made the light un- 
certain. The shadows ran swiftly over the 
ground and whisked out of sight, then came 
a brief space of gloom, and then the illumina- 
tion revealed objects with diminishing distinct- 
ness, for a hundred yards out on the plain. 

It was a night favorable for Indian cunning 
to do its work. The spring grass was tall 
enough to allow a warrior to steal through it 


ON GUARD 


83 


while lying flat on his face, with little fear of 
detection, until he came close to the foe whom 
he was seeking to slay. If ever a sentinel 
needed all his wits it was on that night when 
more than half a dozen of them were guard- 
ing the emigrant train plodding its way to 
the distant Pacific coast. 


CHAPTER VI 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 

S UDDENLY through the tomhlike still- 
ness brooding over camp and plain, came 
the dull sounds of rifle firing. Two shots 
were in quick succession, a third followed, then 
two more, after which all was as silent as be- 
fore. 

The reports were apparently a half-mile to 
the northwest. Every one of the sentinels lis- 
tened closely, but nothing further reached 
them. 

Jethro Mix snatched up his gun with a gasp 
and held his breath. Then he moved on tip- 
toe around the rear of the wagon to where 
Alden Payne stood tense and motionless as a 
statue. 

“Did you hear dat?” asked the negro in a 
husky whisper. 

“Of course.” 

“What do it mean?” 

“I can’t tell; we shall soon learn.” 

8i 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 


85 


‘‘Listen, Al!” 

The two did so for a few seconds, and then 
Alden said in an undertone; 

“I didn’t hear anything more; did you?” 

“Yas.” 

“What did it sound like?” 

“A boss’s hoofs; wait a minute.” 

Jethro dropped on his knees and pressed an 
ear to the ground. He had done the same 
thing in different circumstances, and knew 
what help it was to the hearing. 

The next instant he sprang up. 

“De In jins am coming ! I hear dar bosses !” 

Alden imitated the action of his companion 
and then quickly rose. 

“It is a single horse, and he is coming this 
way on a run; I don’t think the Indians are 
near or we should hear more hoofs; I wish 
Shagbark would show up.” 

But the guide did not appear for some min- 
utes. Still standing the two noted the sounds 
made by the hoofs of a pony traveling at the 
highest speed. The sounds rapidly grew more 
distinct, and the two were quickly able to lo- 
cate the horseman. It was toward the point 
whence came the rifle reports, and the fugitive 
must have had something to do with them. 


86 


RACING FOR LIFE 


‘‘Dar he is!” whispered Jethro trembling 
with excitement; “shall I shoot him?” 

“No; wait till we find what it all means*” 

Just then the drifting clouds swept from be- 
fore the face of the moon, whose rays streamed 
down upon the prairie. From out this misty 
obscurity shot a horse and rider, the animal with 
outstretched neck, tail streaming and strain- 
ing every nerve to carry the man who was 
leaning well forward, beyond the zone of dan- 
ger. The same rhythmic beat that had fallen 
on their ears that afternoon greeted them 
again. The pony was running for all that 
was in him. 

Just as the rider fiashed opposite the group 
of silent canvas covered wagons, he seemed to 
catch sight of them. Without drawing rein or 
checking the desperate speed of his horse he 
shouted : 

“Look out for In jins! they’re close onto 
you!” 

And then man and animal plunged into the 
night and disappeared, though the fast dimin- 
ishing thumping of hoofs was heard for some 
seconds later. 

“He’s a Pony Express rider,” said AJden; 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 


87 


‘'and is making for the next station as fast as 
his horse can carry him. 

“Ye’re right, younker,” remarked Shag- 
bark, who appeared at the side of the two with 
no more noise than that of the flitting shad- 
ows on the plain. 

“Did he Are any of those shots?” asked Al- 
den. 

“He couldn’t; he don’t carry a rifle.” 

“He has his revolver.” 

“It’s easy to tell the difference atween the 
barking of a revolver and a big gun; there 
warn’t any pistol used. He run right into 
the hornet’s nest afore he seed it, and the var- 
mints opened on him; he must have throwed 
himself forrard on his boss and the animal 
scratched gravel as them ponies know how to 
do. Every shot missed ’em both; I reckon 
that rider will carry his gun after this, even if 
its adds to the weight of his load.” 

“It seems to me,” said Alden, “that if those 
Indians intended to attack us they wouldn’t 
have fired at the express rider.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it warns us of our danger.” 

“Thar’s a heap of sense in what ye say. 


88 


RACING FOR LIFE 


younker; that would have been the way of it, 
if the rider hadn’t dashed into ’em afore he 
knowed it, and afore they could slip out of his 
way; so they tried to shoot him from his sad- 
dle; beats all natur’ what poor shooters most 
of the varmints are.” 

Shagbark glanced at the two. 

“I’m powerful glad to see you both awake; 
I’m going to sneak out a little way on the per- 
arie where I kin see furder than from hyar. 
So don’t shoot off yer guns ontil ye’re sartin 
it ain’t me but a redskin.” 

Having given these instructions to each of 
the sentinels, Shagbark set about the task he 
had in mind. It certainly was risky, for, 
while he might count upon avoiding any colli- 
sion with the red men, it was quite likely that 
some of the sentinels in their nervousness 
would fire upon the first glimpse of him. Be 
that as it may, the thought gave him little con- 
cern. 

Jethro Mix stole back to his place on the 
other side of the wagon. A big scheme had 
flashed upon him, and he wished to turn it 
over in his mind. 

“Wish I war dat Pony Expressman,” he 
muttered; “he’s gwine so fast dat de Injins 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 


89 


won’t get de fust glimpse agin ob him. I’d 
like to be one ob dem riders, if I could allers 
keep riding toward St. Joe. What’s to bender 
me sneaking Jilk out from de oder critters an 
going like blazes fur de Missouri riber?” 

That was the thought which had taken pos- 
session of him. 

“Ef I kin git a good start dere ain’t any 
animal in dis crowd dat could ketch us, and 
when I arroves at St. Joe, it’ll take a double 
team ob horses to pull me away again.” 

A few minutes’ reflection, however, showed 
the young colored man that his plan was im- 
possible. He could not withdraw his pony 
from the group within the circle without be- 
ing seen by the sentinels who would permit 
nothing of that nature. Moreover, Shag- 
bark was likely to return at any moment from 
his reconnaissance and it would be just like 
him to shoot down Jethro. 

‘T doan’ think he lubs me much anyway; 
he’s been onrespectful in his remarks when he 
spoke to me afore others. Guess I’ll hab to 
wait till we gits to Salt Lake, where we’ll 
change guides and I’ll be mighty glad ob it.” 

It must be deemed fortunate for Jethro 
Mix that he did not attempt the wild scheme 


90 


RACING FOR LIFE 


in his mind, for the consequences must have 
been disastrous to himself. 

Having little or no faith in the fellow’s 
courage and vigilance, Alden Payne acted as 
if he were wholly alone in guarding the wagon 
in which a number of the women and children 
were asleep, unconscious of any danger that 
might be stealing upon them. He had not 
long to wait when he made a disquieting dis- 
covery. 

For most of the time the stillness was pro- 
found. The oxen had lain dovm within the 
enclosure and were either chewing their cuds 
or sleeping. Two or three of the horses kept 
their feet, but most of them were also lying 
down. Occasionally the stamp of a hoof 
sounded dully, but nothing else disturbed the 
watchers. In all directions on the level plain 
reigned the silence of the grave. The wide 
sweeping Platte, though not far off, coursed 
between its banks with no ripple or eddy that 
could be heard a hundred yards away. It was 
hard to believe that men were abroad in this 
silent world, hunting for a chance to slay their 
fellow creatures, but such was undoubtedly 
the fact. 

The ever shifting shadows as the clouds 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 


91 


tumbled past the moon, tantalized Alden. 
IMuch would he have preferred that the sky 
should be darker or lighter, provided it re- 
mained the one or the other. 

It was not anything he heard which gave 
him his first thrill of fear. He caught no 
sound, but it suddenly occurred to him that 
there was a movement in the grass a few rods 
out. At first he could not define its nature. 
It was as if some reptile, possibly a rattle- 
snake, was stirring at that point. The dis- 
turbance was so slight that a moment later he 
felt sure he had been deceived. The face of 
the moon cleared, and a silver fiood of light 
bathed the grassy plain. The spot which had 
roused his suspicion stood out almost as at mid- 
day, when the sky is partly cloudy. 

“Could I have been mistaken?’’ he asked him- 
self, motionless and peering into the obscurity. 
“Shagbark warned me to be on my guard 
against everything, but I can’t make this out.” 

If a serpent had been disturbed and was 
zig-zagging through the grass, he had nothing 
to fear, for it would not molest him. 

The occasion was one in which Jethro might 
be able to give help. Alden called cautiously 
to him, but there was no answer. He stepped 


RACING FOR LIFE 


softly around the rear of the wagon, but be- 
fore he discovered the big fellow lying on the 
ground, he noticed his heavy breathing. 

“Asleep,” muttered his master disgustedly; 
“I wonder that he kept awake so long.” 

Without returning to his former position, 
Alden again scrutinized the plain spread out 
to view. In the flickering illumination, he 
could not descry anything out of the usual 
order of things. 

“It must have been a mistake but I don’t 
understand — ^helloa !” 

A ragged cloud again swept past the moon, 
whose full rays descended upon the earth. 
Could Alden Payne believe his eyes? 

Barely a hundred yards away stood an In- 
dian warrior. He seemed to be looking at the 
youth himself, though that was impossible be- 
cause Alden must have been invisible to the 
keenest of eyes while wrapped in the shadow. 
The red man was as erect as a statue, a rifle in 
one hand which rested at the side below his hip. 
The youth noted even the feathers which pro- 
jected from the crown of his head, the naked 
chest, the sash around the waist and the handle 
of the knife thrust behind it. A glimpse 
could be caught of the leggings below, most of 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 


93 


them with the moccasins being hidden, how- 
ever, in the grass. 

The whole thing was beyond explanation. 
It looked as if the Indian while crawling over 
the ground and hidden by the grass, had 
changed his mind and deliberately risen to his 
feet, where he must have known he would be 
in full view of the vigilant white men. What 
could it all mean? 

The next moment, while Alden was staring 
at the strange sight, he recalled the orders of 
Shagbark. 

“The minute ye’re sure it’s a redskin, shoot r 

Nothing could be easier than for the youth 
to bring his rifle to a level where he was 
screened by the darkness, and bring down 
the Indian as he would bring down any other 
game. But he could not do it. The thought 
of shooting a human being, even though an 
enemy probably seeking the life of the youth 
himself, was intolerable. It would have been 
a crime for which Heaven would hold him ac- 
countable and for whose commission he could 
never forgive himself. 

“I shan’t let him get out of my sight; he 
can do no harm so long as he stands there; if 
he attacks, I’ll shoot. Shagbark will laugh at 


94 


RACING FOR LIFE 


me, but I prefer he should do that rather than 
offend my Creator/’ 

How long the Indian would have held his 
pose is doubtful, had not an unlooked for in- 
terruption occurred. Alden was trying to dis- 
cern the countenance more clearly. He 
thought it was striped and daubed with paint, 
but the view was not distinct enough to make 
sure. Without intending to venture into the 
moonlight, the youth stepped softly aside and 
back a single pace in the effort to obtain an- 
other angle of view. In making the move- 
ment, he placed his foot directly over the 
mouth of Jethro Mix, and rested most of his 
weight on it before he could check himself. 

“Gorrynation !” gasped the African, catch- 
ing the offending shoe with both hands and 
struggling to free himself, “who f rowed dat 
house on top of my head?” 

“Shut up!” commanded Alden as he flirted 
his foot; “Why are you sleeping when you 
were placed here to watch for the Indians?” 

“Who’s sleeping?” demanded Jethro, climb- 
ing heavily to his feet; “I war jest setting 
down to tie my shoestring when you come 
along and stepped on my head so it’s bent out 
ob plumb.” 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 


95 


“Look over the plain and tell me what you 
think of thatf' said Alden impressively. 

Startled by his words and manner, the Af- 
rican rubbed his eyes and did as directed, but . 
failed to discover anything. 

“I doan’ see nuffin,” he growled. 

Nor did Alden. Everything was as when 
Jethro lay down. The sound of his voice must 
have been heard by the Indian, who vanished 
as suddenly as he had appeared. It was easy 
for Alden to understand that, but he could 
not comprehend why the redskin should have 
shown himself at all. 

It was necessary to give some explanation to 
Jethro, but his young master had no purpose 
of telling everything. 

‘T saw an Indian out there a few minutes 
ago and stepped across to tell you about it, 
but you were asleep and didn’t know any more 
than you do when you are awake. The best 
thing for you to do, Jeth, is to lie down and 
keep on sleeping.” 

“Do you mean dat?” eagerly asked the 
other. 

“Of course I do.” 

“All right ; if you finds you have to do any 
trampin’ bout I’ll be obleeged if you doan’ 


96 


RACING FOR LIFE 


step into my mouth agin. If you do I’ll bite 
your foot in two.” 

Alden without noticing the fellow walked 
back to his first position. He did not give 
Jethro a second thought. 

Despite the self-evident cause of the disap- 
pearance of the skulking warrior, the youth 
was ill at ease. He decided to await the ex- 
planation of Shagbark, who would probably 
join him ere long. 

But worst of all, the proof had been given 
that the redskins whom all dreaded were prow- 
ling near the camp. One of them would not 
have ventured alone to the neighborhood. 
There might be a dozen, a score, or half a hun- 
dred who were formulating if they had not al- 
ready formulated a plan to surprise and mas- 
sacre every one of the whites. As to what that 
plan was he was as ignorant as the slumbering 
Jethro Mix. 

All that Alden could do was use his eyes 
and hearing. No fear of his falling asleep, 
even if he did lean against the thick spokes of 
the wagon wheel. He knew better than to 
confine his attention to the spot where the war- 
rior had appeared and vanished. The fact of 
his having done so would prevent his repeat- 


ABORIGINAL CUNNING 97 

iiig the trick. He would aim to strike his next 
blow from another point. And that such was 
the fact became apparent a few minutes later 
when a fluttering disturbance similar to the 
flrst caught his eye, though from a point well 
to the left. 

It was so far over indeed that, without any 
hesitation the youth moved a rod or more in 
that direction, keeping so far as he could in 
the shadow of the Conestoga, but the change 
of position carried him into the moonlight, and 
he crossed half the interval between his wagon 
and the one next to it. The fewness in num- 
ber of vehicles compelled their wide separa- 
tion, for the circle was large. 

There was no call for him to go any farther, 
since the sentinel there must be as vigilant as 
himself, and it was not wise to leave his own 
charge unguarded even for a few minutes. 
Still further, Shagbark had warned every one 
against abandoning his post. 

Because of all this, Alden halted just be- 
yond the shadow thrown out by the huge wide 
cover of the Conestoga. His nerves were at 
the highest tension, and the feeling was strong 
upon him that some frightful danger was 
stealing upon the camp. 

7 


98 


RACING FOR LIFE 


With the suddenness of lightning the truth 
flashed upon him. The second disturbance in 
the grass was for the purpose of drawing him 
away from his post, so as to leave that particu- 
lar wagon and its precious load unguarded! 

'Not only was such the purpose of the In- 
dian but the daring plan succeeded! 


CHAPTER VII 


JUST IN TIME 

A t the instant of turning, Alden saw a 
form rise from the grass, less than two 
rods from the wagon, and glide with incred- 
ible swiftness toward it. The Indian was 
crouching, a rifle in his left hand and a knife 
in his right. Through an unexplainable in- 
stinct he knew where some of the women and 
children were sleeping, and he intended to 
bound in among them, strike right and left 
with venomous flerceness, slaying the sleepers 
with lightning-like quickness, and then dart 
away in the moonlight. 

Half the intervening space was passed when 
the youth brought his gun to his shoulder and 
in the same instant fired. The interval was 
too brief to miss. The warrior emitted a rasp- 
ing screech, flung up his arms and dived head 
foremost, so close to the Conestoga that he 
slid like a sleigh over the ice beyond the hind 
wheels and lay motionless on his face. 

99 


100 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden was on the spot in a twinkling. 
Aflame with rage, he looked down at the life- 
less form and bitterly exclaimed: 

“I couldn’t Are on you a few minutes ago, 
but I never felt more pleasure than in doing 
so just now!” 

It was a proof of the excellent training of 
the sentinels by Shagbark that, startling as 
was the episode, not one of them abandoned his 
station. Each knew that to do so would be 
to invite an attack from the undefended quar- 
ter. All held their ground, alert and ready to 
Are the instant the chance ofl* ered. 

The crack of the rifle and the shriek of the 
red man roused more than one sleeper. Three 
of the men caught up their guns and scrambled 
out of the wagons. They were bewildered and 
at sea for the moment. The youth saw the 
terrified face of a mother peering out of the 
open space in the canvas at the rear of the 
Conestoga. 

“What does it mean, Alden?” she asked, fail- 
ing to see the feet of the redskin who lay under 
the axletree. 

“I fired at an Indian,” replied the youth; 
“keep out of sight for the bullets may be fly- 
ing any minute.” 


JUST IN TIME 


101 


The face vanished, for the woman was sen- 
sible even in her fright. Her two small chil- 
dren had not awakened, and she lay down be- 
tween them, an arm over each, while a prayer 
went up to the only sure refuge in time of 
peril, 

Alden was sure that the report of his gun 
and the outcry of the victim would bring Shag- 
bark to the spot and he was not mistaken. 
The lad was watching the plain for him when 
he came silently forward from the rear and 
spoke : 

“Good for ye, younker! I won’t need ye 
many years under my care to make a fust- 
class hunter and trapper of ye. How was it?” 

His youthful friend told what had occurred. 

“Have ye loaded yer gun?” 

“Not yet; I didn’t think of it, and have hard- 
ly had time.” 

“When ye shoot off yer piece, the next thing 
is to load up ag’in, for ye’re likely to need it 
mighty sudden; ’tend to that while I take a 
look round.” 

The rifle used in those days was not the mod- 
ern breech-loader, though they were beginning 
to come into use, but Alden’s weapon, like 
those of his friends, carried but the single 


RACING FOR LIFE 


lOS 

charge which entered the muzzle. Screening 
himself in the shadow cast by the wagon, he 
proceeded to ram a charge down the barrel, 
while the guide did as he said he would do. 
He passed from one guard to another until 
he had made the round. He told the three 
who had been roused from sleep to go back 
and wait until he called them. 

Mr. Fleming was stationed at the Conestoga 
which stood opposite and the farthest from the 
one in which his wife and others lay. 

“I don’t like it,” he said curtly to Shagbark ; 
‘‘I ought to guard my own family.” 

“Could ye do any better than that younker 
done?” asked the guide. 

“I don’t believe I could; none the less, I feel 
that my right place is there.” 

“I tell ye that younker is a hummer ; not yer- 
self nor any man in the crowd is better than 
him at a time like this; if his father and 
mother don’t want him I’m going to adopt 
him. In two or three years among the Rockies 
he’ll make the best kind of a hunter or trap- 
per, instid of wasting his time laming lam- 
ing which ain’t no good to nobody. But I 
say, Abner, if ye really want to change places 
with him, ye can do so.” 


JUST IN TIME 


103 


‘‘I do wish it.” 

‘‘Come on, then; it won’t do any hurt to 
leave yer post for a minute, ’specially as them 
varmints don’t seem to be in a hurry to tackle 
us.” 

As soon as the couple joined Alden he 
hastily crossed the open space and took his sta- 
tion beside the other wagon. 

“Somehow or other,” he mused, “I suspect 
that the next move will be against this point; 
the redskins have learned that Fleming’s 
wagon is well guarded and they won’t try it 
there a second time. I shan’t be caught asleep 
again.” 

He shuddered, as he recalled that it was his 
own desertion of post which caused the warrior 
to risk an attack upon the wagon. He had 
successfully maneuvered to draw the youth 
away, in order that he might commit the 
crime. Alden said he was sure he would have 
seen the Indian when, after completing his 
awful work, he leaped from the rear of the 
wagon to make off. 

“Which is jes’ what he wouldn’t have done; 
he would have sneaked from the front, and 
whisked out of sight afore anyone could know 
what he’d done; and,” grimly added the guide. 


104 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“more’n likely he’d knifed one or two others 
on his way to the perarie agin.” 

Although the veteran knew Alden had dis- 
obeyed orders when he moved from his station, 
he made no reference to it at the time nor af- 
terward. Had the offender been anyone else, 
he would have been called down with an em- 
phasis that he never would have forgotten. 

It will be recalled that a short while before 
the incident related, Shagbark had started off 
on a reconnaissance of his own. Assured as he 
was that the Indians of whom he had caught 
glimpses during the afternoon, and the reports 
of whose guns he had heard not far away, were 
drawing near the camp with the most sinister 
designs, he set out to checkmate them so far as 
it was possible. He could not trust all his sen- 
tinels as he would have liked to trust them, 
and he hoped to anticipate the attack of their 
foes. 

Shagbark dreaded that they might rush the 
camp — ^that is, dash right in among the wagons 
and animals and slay on every hand. This 
was giving them credit for a courage which 
the American Indian rarely shows; but if the 
dozen whom the hunter had seen were the ad- 
vance of a more numerous party, it was by 


JUST IN TIME 


105 


no means impossible that this risk would be 
taken. 

Another policy to be feared almost as much 
was that the warriors would gallop up and fire 
into the camp, circling off again until they 
could reload and repeat their attack. The dis- 
charge would be quite sure to kill or wound 
some of the oxen and horses. It was not im- 
probable, too, that, despite the protection of 
those on guard, the whistling bullets would 
find some of them. 

The guide thought that by venturing out on 
the plains he might get a glimpse of their en- 
emies and penetrate their plans. Could he do 
so, possibly he might take steps to baffle them. 
Several ways presented themselves to his fer- 
tile mind. 

The situation was one which called for all 
the woodcraft of which he was master. Nat- 
urally gifted in this respect, he had been edu- 
cated in the best of all schools — experience. 
Those who had trapped and hunted with him 
agreed that he had no superior, and never was 
he more anxious to succeed than now. 

Leaving the wagon on the north, he walked 
toward the Platte, which flowed only two or 
three hundred yards away. He stooped low 


106 


RACING FOR LIFE 


and moved slowly, halting every few paces, 
peering round in the moonlight and listening 
intently. Instead of being bothered by the 
shifting light, he was aided by it. When the 
moon was obscured he hurried forward, tak- 
ing care to pause and stoop before the full 
light streamed out again. 

The course of the hunter was diagonal to 
that of the river, and gradually took him to- 
ward it. He was still fifty paces away, when 
his keen hearing told him something. It was 
such a plash as is made by a fish leaping above 
the surface and falling back again. That 
probably was the cause, and yet it was possible 
it had more significance than that. 

Upon hearing the slight noise, Shagbark in- 
stantly sank flat upon the ground, where the 
grass hid him from the sight of any one pass- 
ing within a dozen feet. He did not raise his 
head, until a second faint rippling, different 
from that caused by the sweep of the stream, 
came to him. Then he removed his sombrero, 
and cautiously lifted his eyes until he could see 
all the way to the low level bank. With one 
hand he parted the vegetation, and kept as far 
down as he could and still see. 


JUST IN TIME 


107 


An Indian warrior having swum the stream, 
stood for a moment on the shore. He was 
afoot, a fact which surprised the watcher, who 
knew that none of his race wandered far in 
that country without a pony to carry him. 
Standing thus, the redskin emitted a soft bird- 
like call which the listening ear could hardly 
detect. The response was in the form of a 
second Indian, who came into sight from some 
point up stream. The two met and talked in 
voices which were only the faintest murmur to 
the eavesdropper. 

Shagbark formed a daring plan as he thus 
lay in the grass, with his eyes upon the couple, 
who sometimes faded from sight and then 
stood out in relief, when the light of the moon 
was unclouded. He decided to wait until the 
shifting positions of the two brought them 
within direct range and then fire and bring 
both down. 

And incredible as it may seem, that is what 
he would have done but for the occurrence al- 
ready described. With nerves of steel he 
brought his rifie round in front, drew the ham- 
mer back, and paused until the orb of night 
should show they were in the right relative po- 


108 


RACING FOR LIFE 


sition. Thus matters stood when the report of 
Alden Payne’s weapon and the death cry of 
his victim rang out with thrilling clearness in 
the still night. 

It would be hard to say which party was 
most startled. The Indians, standing on the 
bank of the river, whisked out of sight, and 
halting only a moment, Shagbark turned and 
ran with all speed to the camp. There was 
the call for him, and he could not lose a second. 
It has been shown that he arrived in time. 
Neither Alden nor any of the others suspected 
the experience through which the guide had 
passed, nor did they learn of it until long af- 
terward. 

The sagacity of Shagbark told him that the 
incident was the best thing that could have oc- 
curred for the emigrants. Beyond a doubt 
the surrounding warriors were forming their 
plans of attack, counting much upon a sur- 
prise, when the death of the most daring of 
their number told them their mistake. In or- 
der to rush the camp they must reckon upon 
losing several of their number. The certainty 
of such a penalty has prevented many an In- 
dian assault. 

As Shagbark and Abner Fleming stood by 


JUST IN TIME 


109 


the wagon which had escaped the dreadful 
peril, the latter shuddered. 

‘‘What’s the matter?” asked the guide. 

The other indicated the inanimate form that 
still lay on its face under the Conestoga. 

“Can’t we get rid of that, Shagbark?” 

“Nothing is easier; obsarve.” 

Leaning his rifle against the tailboard, the 
hunter stooped, seized each ankle, and raising 
his hands so that they were at his own hips, and 
with a moccasin on either side, he ran fifty 
yards out on the plains. Then dropping the 
feet, he turned about and dashed back, with the 
cool remark: 

“We may as well keep his gun, fur he won’t 
need it any more.” 

“Shagbark, that was risky on your part; 
even where it lies it is much closer than I like, 
for we shall all have to see it in the morning.” 

“No, you won’t; it’ll be gone afore sunup.” 

“Will they dare come near enough to take it 
away?” 

“Keep yer eyes peeled.” 

Leaving Fleming to himself, the guide 
made another cautious visitation of the senti- 
nels. It was now not far from midnight and 
the change of guard must soon be made. 


no 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden Payne was left for the last before 
returning again to Fleming. Shagbark had 
formed a strong liking for the youth, and this 
feeling was deepened by the last exploit of 
Alden. 

“Wal, younker, have ye diskivered anything 
new?” asked the man, in his low voice, which 
could not have been heard twenty feet away. 

“Nothing at all; how is it with you?” 

“The same way ; ye obsarve the Injins knows 
that one of the sentinels keeps his eyes open 
all the time and they ain’t taking any chances 
they don’t have to take.” 

“But I have been shifted to this side,” re- 
plied his young friend, as if he accepted the 
compliment in all seriousness; “some of them, 
therefore, ought to show up here.” 

“That’s jest the p’int; the varmints knows 
we ’spects something of that sort, and have 
moved ye over to this side, where ye’ll give ’em 
the same kind of welcome ye did afore.” 

“Come, now, Shagbark, that’s enough,” pro- 
tested Alden; “it happened to fall to me to 
pick off that wretch, but anyone else in my 
position would have done the same.” 

“P’raps,” grunted the guide, and that was 
the utmost he would admit. 


JUST IN TIME 


111 


“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Alden excited- 
ly, turning to his companion; “that beats all 
creation!” 

“What do ye now mean?” inquired the vet- 
eran. 

“What’s become of Jethro?” 

Strange that during all this time no one had 
noticed the absence of the colored lad, but he 
had been missing for more than an hour. 

“What do you think has become of him?” 
asked Alden. 

“Dunno, and can’t say I keer; the best use 
we kin put him to is to slip a yoke over his 
neck and let one of the oxen take a rest.” 

There may have been some justice in these 
rough sentiments, but Alden could not dismiss 
the matter thus. Despite Jethro’s cowardice, 
his master felt a strong affection for him. 
They had been companions from early boy- 
hood, and the African showed a dog-like re- 
gard for his master. He would willingly go 
hungry or suffer pain for his sake, though he 
drew the line at Indians. 

Noticing the distress of the youth. Shag- 
bark, with more consideration in his voice, 
asked ; 

“When did ye see him last?” 


RACING FOR LIFE 


m 


‘‘A few minutes before I fired; I think I 
left him asleep near the other wheel of the 
wagon where I had been standing. F act is, I 
know he was asleep.” 

“And he warn’t thar when ye come back, 
which was powerful soon afterward?” 

“I didn’t think of Jethro, but I must have 
seen him if he had stayed where he was.” 

“What do ye think become of him?” 

“He must have run away; I never saw a per- 
son so scared as he when he learned we were 
likely to be attacked by Indians. I am afraid 
he has scampered off over the prairie.” 

“Couldn’t have done that very well without 
some one seeing him ; more’n likely he crawled 
in among the bosses and oxen where he thought 
he’d be safer. Hark!” 

From the interior of the wagon near which 
they were standing sounded the heavy snoring 
of some person. 

“I’ll bet ye that’s him,” chuckled Shagbark. 

“He isn’t the only one that puts on the loud 
pedal when he sleeps.” 

Shagbark stepped on the tongue of the ve- 
hicle and peered inside. It was too dark to 
see anything. In fact, two other men were 
breathing less stertoriously, but he located the 


JUST IN TIME 


113 


point from which the chief racket came. 
Feeling about with his hand, he gripped the 
shoulder of the sleeper, and bracing himself 
with one foot against the front board, he drew 
out the elongated form of the offender. 


8 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE ATTACK 

I T looked to Alden Payne as if Jethro was 
eight feet long, when the guide was drag- 
ging him out of the front of the wagon by the 
nape of the neck. Like many persons, he was 
slow to regain consciousness, and was not fully 
awake until he was stood upon his feet. Even 
then he staggered uncertainly and was bewil- 
dered by the situation. 

“What’s de matter?” he mumbled, spread- 
ing his feet apart and steadying himself. 
“Whar’s your gun?” demanded Shagbark. 
“In de wagon; I didn’t feel wery well and 
went in dere to lay down.” 

“Get your gun and help shoot Injins,” was 
the startling order. 

The flurry awoke the women in the Con- 
estoga, and the excitement roused the whole 
camp. Dark forms appeared from the inte- 
rior of the wagons, and hearing the voice of 
114 




The Sharp Cracks of Weapons Rang Out in the 
Stillness. 



THE ATTACK 


115 


the guide, most of them hurried to him to 
learn what they were to do. 

Shagbark quickly explained the situation. 
The emigrants were about to be attacked, for 
there could be no doubt that their enemies were 
near at hand. Every man was needed, for 
much depended upon the vigor of the defense. 
Dividing the force so as to guard every point, 
the hunter cautioned the defenders to shield 
themselves as best they could, and to fire on the 
instant the least chance offered to do so with 
eff ect. 

Once more the result of his training showed. 
The oxen and horses were in the middle of the 
open space, as far beyond danger as was pos- 
sible; the women obeyed orders by keeping 
themselves and children behind the bullet-proof 
sides of the Conestogas. No more sleep for 
the mothers so long as the peril threatened. 
They listened, peered out and put up their 
prayers to heaven. 

This tension had lasted but a few minutes, 
when the grass surrounding the camp became 
flashes of flame. From a score of places, rep- 
resenting so many different points of the com- 
pass, rifles gushed fire, the sharp cracks of the 


116 


RACING FOR LIFE 


weapons rang out in the stillness, and the thud 
and pingeing of rifle balls were everywhere. 
In two instances the escapes of the defenders 
could not have been narrower. Abner Flem- 
ing felt the zip of a bullet which grazed his 
forehead, and one of his neighbors on the other 
side of the circle was scraped by a pellet of 
lead which abraded an arm. 

Not an assailant could be seen. Leaving 
their ponies at a distance, the Indians had crept 
through the protecting grass to the nearest 
point prudent, and, crouching low or lying on 
their faces, fired into the camp. In the same 
moment the guns began popping from behind 
and alongside the wagons. Each man aimed 
at the flash nearest to him, for the instant il- 
lumination was his only guide. Then as 
quickly as the redskins could reload, they fired 
again, but always from a different point. 
They were using the trick common among 
white rangers of rolling aside the instant after 
pulling trigger. In the briefest conceivable 
time the whites discharged their weapons, but 
in that flitting interval, their enemies had shift- 
ed their position, and the bullets whizzed 
harmlessly past in the grass, or buried them- 
selves in the earth. Inasmuch as each party 


THE ATTACK 


117 


rarely saw a member of the other, it was in- 
evitable that most of the shots went wild. 

Matters were “humming” thus, when the 
last person in the world that would have been 
believed capable of anything of the kind, did 
something so clever that it brought a compli- 
ment from Shagbark himself. That person 
was Jethro Mix. 

When he recovered his gun, he leaped out 
of the wagon. The rear of the latter faced 
outward. Alden stood close to the body, and 
used the broad-tired wheel as a partial protec- 
tion. No other man was near, they having 
been sent to different points. Instead of re- 
maining in the vehicle and firing over the tail- 
board, where only his head would have been 
exnosed, Jethro stood in the open — that is, di- 
rectly in front of the cumbersome structure. 
He had not the benefit even of shadow, but 
must have been in plain sight of one or more 
foes in the grass. 

“Don’t do that, Jeth!” called his young mas- 
ter in a guarded voice. “You’ll be shot.” 

“Git out!” replied the negro, with his rifle 
^t his shoulder, and alert for his opportunity. 

as safe as you is; ’tend to your own bus’- 
ness.” 


118 


RACING FOR LIFE 


It is hard to explain the mood of the Af- 
rican. He had earned the contempt of his 
friends by his timidity, but now none showed 
more intrepidity than he. Possibly he was so 
scared as to be unable to distinguish between 
danger and safety. That may be the right 
theory, but it cannot make clear what he did 
within the following three minutes. 

Inevitably a painted redskin lying low in 
the grass took a shot at the dusky form and 
came startlingly near hitting him. It was a 
critical moment, but in the brief interval 
Jethro recalled one of Shagbark’s reminis- 
cences, in which he told of dodging every re- 
turn bullet during a night attack by rolling 
aside the instant he fired his gun. The cir- 
cumstances now were precisely the same as 
in the former instance, except the position of 
the contending parties was reversed: the In- 
dians were the assailants. 

“It’s dein dat will fiop over like a buck- 
wheat cake de minute dey fires,” refiected 
Jethro, “but how de mischief ken I know which 
way de rapscallions will turn? Mos’ folks am 
right-handed, and I guess dat’s de way this 
sarpint will fiop. If I’m right I must shoot 
to his left, ’cause he am facing me.” 


THE ATTACK 


119 


It was the blindest kind of theorizing, but 
strange as it may seem, Jethro Mix was ab- 
solutely right in his conclusion. And the 
w^onder of it all is that he reached it within 
a dozen seconds after the redskin’s bullet 
whizzed by his temple. Not only that, but he 
reasoned that the Indian would not shift his 
place for more than two or three feet, before 
reloading and trying another shot. Accord- 
ingly, having located his target by guess- 
work, Jethro sighted as best he could in the 
moonlight and pulled trigger. 

And he got his man, too. A cry from the 
grass left no doubt on that point. He had 
hit the redskin as fairly as Shagbark could 
have done had the foe been standing on his 
feet with the sun shining overhead. And 
then like a veteran, Jethro, without stirring 
in his tracks, began reloading his gun. 

Shagbark hurried forward. He was whisk- 
ing from point to point, keeping the men 
keyed up and instructing them what to do. 
The shots still came from different points, but 
the firing was desultory and blind. The en- 
emy hoped to hit man or animal, but there 
could be no certainty of doing so. 

“Come back hyar,” said the guide sternly; 


120 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“git behind this wagon if ye don’t want to 
git riddled by the varmints.” 

“Yas, sir,” replied Jethro, suspending the 
reloading of his weapon and meekly obeying. 

“Younker, was it ye who plugged that red- 
skin?” asked the guide. 

“No; it was Jeth.” 

“How’d ye do it?” demanded the hunter. 

“Ef you wants to larn how to tumble over 
one oh dem sarpents, Mr. Shagbark, I’ll tole 
you and you can try it yourself. I knowed 
dat de minute he pulled trigger he’d roll ober 
so dat when my bullet arobe he wouldn’t be 
dere to welcome it. So I aimed at de left 
side from here, and I reckons I got him.” 

“B’ars and beavers!” exclaimed the guide, 
“ye’re the only one in the party that knowed 
’nough to do that. Whar did ye larn it?” 

“I heerd you tell how you done it once.” 

“Wal, wal, it gits me; ye ain’t such a big 
fool as ye looks to be; keep on doing that 
thing, but don’t let ’em cotch sight of ye, if ye 
can help it.” 

Shaghark’s admiration was not lessened by 
the fact that he knew the exploit of Jethro 
Mix was a piece of luck rather than real skill. 


THE ATTACK 


m 


By no possible means could he have known to 
which side the warrior would turn, but fortu- 
nately he guessed the right one, and the re- 
sult was all that could be hoped for. None 
the less, Jethro had displayed a bravery and 
coolness in inexplainable contrast to his pre- 
vious actions. 

The grim irony of the situation was in- 
creased by what followed. Alden Payne did 
not forget the object lesson of a few minutes 
before. He knew that another shot would 
soon come from the grass in front, for the re- 
ports were heard on the other sides of the 
camp. He stood behind the wheel of the 
wagon, with gun leveled and alert for his 
chance. 

He did not have to wait long. A spout of 
flame gushed from a point within a rod of 
where the former had appeared, and a thud 
told him the bullet had buried itself in the 
heavy timber of the Conestoga. Shifting his 
aim slightly to the left of the spot where the 
flash had shown, he let fly. 

No outcry followed. The enemy had 
slipped in the opposite direction and was not 
harmed. Jethro had not quite finished re- 


122 


RACING FOR LIFE 


loading, and by the time he was ready, it was 
useless for him to fire. He therefore held his 
shot. 

Meanwhile, Shaghark had moved to the 
wagon which Abner Fleming was guarding. 
Explaining the singular incident on the other 
side of the circle, he said: 

“We’ll git our man sure, for the minute he 
blazes away. I’ll shoot a little to his right and 
ye do the same to his left: that’ll settle him.” 

Hardly were the words spoken, when a fiash 
appeared directly in front. The bullet went 
wide, but Shagbark had his weapon leveled in 
a twinkling.” 

“Now let him have it!” 

The two reports sounded like one. To the 
amazement there was no cry. Evidently the 
enemy had not been touched. 

“Which side did ye fire, Abner?” asked the 
puzzled guide. 

“To the left — ^that is, to the Indian’s left.” 

“Thunder! that’s what I done; I meant to 
the left as we’re standing.” 

“You ought to have explained clearly.” 

“It’s too late now; be ready for the next 
show.” 


THE ATTACK 


12S 


But it did not come. The assailants were 
so discouraged by the vigilance of the emi- 
grants that they abandoned the plan of rush- 
ing the camp. The desultory shots ceased 
and when a half hour passed without a sound, 
it looked as if the Indians had withdrawn al- 
together. 

Shagbark, however, was not misled. The 
stillness might be meant to deceive the defend- 
ers and cause them to cease their watchful- 
ness. The guide allowed the men who had 
stood guard the first half of the night to re- 
tire to rest in the wagons, while the relief took 
their places. As he intended from the first, 
he did not sleep, but moved from point to 
point, and made sure that none was neg- 
lected. 

Alden Payne and Jethro Mix, acting on 
the advice of the veteran, lay down and despite 
the exciting incidents of the night were soon 
asleep. 

The long hours dragged past without bring- 
ing any alarm. Shagbark kept moving 
around the camp, pausing at different points 
to talk with the sentinels, and twice he crept 
out from the wagon circle and pressed an ear 


RACING FOR LIFE 


lU 

to the ground. He was almost certain the 
Indians had withdrawn and nothing more 
would be heard from them. 

When at last the increasing gray in the east 
told of the approaching day, the camp was 
astir. The light was an unspeakable relief, for 
brief as had been the hours of slumber, no one 
felt any disposition to stay inside the wagons 
after it was safe to venture out. 

Before the sun rose, Shagbark had scanned 
every part of the horizon. No sight of the 
redmen was seen. The warriors must have 
gone back to their ponies, and leaping upon 
them, skurried off in quest of more inviting 
prey. 

Beyond a doubt two or three of the assail- 
ants had fallen, but, as is the custom among 
Indians, their former comrades carried them 
away. Hardly a trace of the attack remained. 

The women busied themselves in preparing 
the morning meal, a fire having been rekindled, 
and all ate with appetites such as come only 
to those who live in the open. A feeling of 
profound gratitude filled the hearts of all, for 
their deliverance was markedly providential. 

“We’ve been a good deal luckier than I ex- 
pected,” said Shagbark during the meal. 


THE ATTACK 


125 


“We had more than one close call,” re- 
marked Fleming; “I had something of the 
kind myself.” 

It was found that three others had escaped 
by chances fully as narrow. 

“That warn’t what I war most afeard of,” 
continued the guide; “we all had such good 
kiver that there never was much danger of be- 
ing hit, but there’s one thing I don’t yet un- 
derstand.” 

In answer to the inquiring looks, Shagbark 
explained : 

“With all them bullets whistling round us 
some of ’em oughter reached the bosses and 
oxen, but there hain’t one of ’em been so much 
as scratched.” 

“Was not that because all were lying 
down?” asked Fleming. 

“That had a good deal to do with it, but 
some of the bosses kept gitting on their feet 
and I had to watch ’em close and make ’em 
lay down agin; there warn’t any such trouble 
with the oxen, fur they was glad ’nough to 
lay down and chaw their cuds.” 

“If we had lost a pony or two,” suggested 
Alden, “it would not have been so bad, for we 
could get on without them.” 


126 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“That ain’t what I’m driving at, but if a 
boss had been wounded or killed, he would 
have kicked up such a rumpus he’d stampeded 
all the others; they’d have scattered over the 
perarie and upset things so promiscuous that 
we’d never got ’em agin. JMore’n that, thar 
would’ve been such times in camp that the var- 
mints would have sailed in, and if we’d man- 
aged to stand ’em off, a good many of ye 
wouldn’t be left to talk about it this morn- 
ing.” 

The listeners shuddered at the picture 
brought up by the words of the grizzled guide. 
None of them had once thought of the terrify- 
ing peril named, but they saw that it had been 
real and beyond the power of exaggeration. 

The most complacent member of the com- 
pany was Jethro Mix. Shagbark and Alden 
had taken pains to tell of his exploit, and if 
the fellow had been capable of blushing, he 
would have turned crimson, but that being be- 
yond his power, he affected to make light of 
it all. 

“Pshaw! dat ain’t nufRn,” he said when the 
wife of Abner Fleming complimented him; “I 
’spects to do de same thing a good many more 
times afore we gits across de plains; de fac’ 


THE ATTACK 


is, I’m on to dem In jins and dey’ll find it out; 
when dey wokes up Jethro Mix dey wokes up 
de wrong passenger and dere’s gwine to be 
trouble in de land.” 

‘T never heard of firing at a spot where an 
enemy is not supposed to be,” ventured Rich- 
ard JMarvin, another member of the company, 
and somewhat of a wag. 

“Who ’sposed he warn’t dere?” demanded 
Jethro. “I knowed he was dere ’cause he 
wasn’t dere — so I aimed at de spot where he 
wasn’t ’cause I knowed he was dere. Doan’ 
you see?” 

“I’m glad to have so clear an explanation,” 
gravely replied the gentleman; “but it seems 
to me there must have been a good deal of 
guesswork, for there was no way by which 
you could know of a certainty which way — ^the 
right or the left — he had moved.” 

“No guesswork ’bout it,” loftily remarked 
Jethro. 

“Could you see him as he lay in the grass?” 

“Ob course not.” 

“You certainly couldn’t hear him.” 

“Ob course I couldn’t; who said I could?” 

“Then how could you know where he really 
was?” 


1^8 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“I’m ’sprised at your discomfuseness, Mr. 
Marvin; de way I knowed whar he was, was 
dat I knowed it; I felt he had flopped ober to 
de left, so I knowed jes’ de p’int to aim at; 
dat’s de skience oh de hull bus’ness.” 

“I haven’t anything more to say, Jethro; 
you’re a wonder; I see Shagbark is getting 
ready to move on again and needs us.” 


CHAPTER IX 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 

T he next look we take of the train under 
the guidance of Shagbark, the veteran of 
the plains, is several weeks after the incidents 
just described. The route which they in com- 
mon with thousands of emigrants, including 
the Pony Express riders, followed, led due 
west up the Kearny valley to Julesburg, a dis- 
tance of two hundred miles. Here it crossed 
the South Platte, trended northwest to old 
Fort Laramie, passed thence over the foothills 
at the foot of the Rockies to South Pass, and 
by way of Fort Bridger to Salt Lake. 

You must bear several facts in mind. Col- 
orado at the time of which I am writing had 
not yet been formed into a Territory, nor had 
Wyoming. The oldest white settlement in 
the latter section was Fort Laramie — since 
abandoned — which was made a trading post in 
1834, rebuilt by the American Fur Company 
9 129 


150 


RACING FOR LIFE 


two years later, and sold to the United States 
and garrisoned as a fort in 1849. 

In speaking of the great overland trail, 
which was used for a score of years after the 
discovery of gold in California, one is apt to 
think of it as of comparatively slight width. 
Yet, although it narrowed to a few miles in 
some places, there were others where the 
ground traversed was fifty or a hundred miles 
across. Thus it happened that trains which 
were following parallel routes were often out 
of sight of one another for days, and perhaps 
wxeks. The breadth of the famous South 
,Pass, the gateway of the Rocky Mountains, 
IS so great that parties of emigrants frequently 
did not know for a long time that they were 
really traveling through it. 

Although there were many incidents worth 
telling, we must skip them and come to the 
time when our friends were plodding some 
distance beyond the straggling town of Chey- 
enne, which was to attain importance during 
the building of the transcontinental railway 
eight or nine years later. They were heading 
for Fort Laramie, on the western slope of 
the spur known as the Laramie Mountains. 
Far ahead the crests could be seen, tinted with 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 


131 


a soft blue, as they raised their summits into 
the clear spring sky. The ground was more 
rolling and undulating, and streams of vary- 
ing depth and volume had to be crossed. The 
greater elevation gave a sensible coolness to 
the air. Although summer was near at hand, 
the nights were chilly and the warmth of 
blankets and the roaring camp fire was grate- 
ful to all alike. 

Indians had been descried many times, and 
Shagbark expected an attack, but since the 
affair many miles to the eastward, not a hos- 
tile shot had been heard. He was inclined to 
think this was due to the vigilance of the emi- 
grants. 'No matter how tranquil everything 
looked, all the adults took turn in mounting 
guard each night. The redmen more than 
once rode up within two or three hundred yards 
and seemed to meditate a closer approach, as 
if for barter. But with good reason they dis- 
trusted the white men, who knew their treach- 
erous nature. Occasionally these warriors 
waved their blankets and made tantalizing 
gestures as if to draw a shot, but Shagbark 
would not permit any to be fired. 

“Thar’s no use of throwing away powder 
and ball,” he said; “we’re likely to need all 


132 


RACING FOR LIFE 


we’ve got afore we see Salt Lake, and them 
insults don’t hurt.” 

Several times our friends had seen the Pony 
Express riders as they skimmed across the 
country with the speed of the wind. A wave 
of the hand from the flying horseman, with- 
out the slightest pull of rein, was the only 
acknowledgment made to the salutations of 
the emigrants. The majority of these head- 
long riders were not seen, for, always hunt- 
ing the speediest route, they were generally 
well north or south of the trail of the ox 
teams. 

A goodly part of the journey was over, and 
yet the train had suffered no serious accident. 
In crossing a rapid stream, where the animals 
had to swim, Jethro Mix performed another 
exploit which won the praise of his friends. 
One of the oxen, stupid as the species always 
is, became entangled in his yoke and would 
have been drowned had not the African urged 
his pony alongside, where with a swift, power- 
ful wrench, some shouting and a savage blow 
or two with the butt of his gun, he straight- 
ened out matters and saved the valuable ani- 
mal. 

More than likely any man in the company 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 


133 


would have done the same thing had circum- 
stances equally favored, but Jethro was the 
nearest to the endangered animal, and seconds 
were beyond estimate. His promptness was 
what won. 

Despite this service and the remarkable ex- 
ploit on the night attack by the Indians, 
Shagbark never showed any special liking for 
the African. It may have been because of his 
race, but, although he could not have been 
induced to harm the dusky youth, he preferred 
to have as little to do with him as possible. 

Alden Payne had become the favorite of 
the guide. At his invitation the young man 
frequently rode with him. When the nature 
of the ground permitted, the two kept side by 
side. If this was not practical, Alden dropped 
to the rear, pressing forward again when the 
chance offered. Shagbark had his silent 
moods, but not so often when the two were 
together. A peculiar result of nature and 
training shown by the veteran amused Alden. 
The guide never lost his habit of eternal alert- 
ness. No matter how deeply interested the 
two were in what was being said, Shagbark 
kept glancing ahead, on each side, and fre- 
quently behind him. Even when sitting on 


134 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the ground or eating with the others this bird- 
like flitting of his eyes was kept up. It 
seemed impossible for such a man to be caught 
off his guard. 

There had been stormy skies and the train 
lay by for most of the day, but on the whole 
the weather continued favorable. The guide 
said more than once that the best of luck had 
been with them from the very day they left 
St. Joe. 

‘Tt can’t continner,” he added, ‘‘so we must 
make the best of it while we’ve got it; we’re 
getting into the mountains, and though it’s 
about summer, we’ll catch some squalls that’ll 
freeze the nose onto yer faces.” 

“It strikes me, Shagbark,” said Alden, “that 
that train two or three miles ahead of us have 
kept almost the same distance for the last few 
days.” 

“Ye’re right, younker.” 

“What do you make of it?” 

“That we both happen to be tramping at 
the same rate. If they went a little faster 
they’d draw away from us, or if we went a 
little faster we’d overhaul ’em.” 

“How large do you make out the party 
to be?” 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 


135 


‘‘’Bout the same as ours; they’ve got an ex- 
tra wagon and a few mules, but I don’t think 
thar’s more men and women.” 

“Wouldn’t it be well for us to unite and 
travel together? It would be much safer in 
case of attack by Indians.” 

Shagbark shook his head. 

“ ’Twon’t work ; they’ve got thar guide and 
we’ve got ourn ; which one would be the boss in 
them sarcumstances ?” 

“You, of course.” 

“The other chap, whoever he might be, 
would have something to say ’bout that, and 
like ’nough him and me would have a fout to 
settle the question. Our folks are all good 
friends and git along powerful pleasant; 
’tain’t likely we could do that if we took in a 
lot of strangers that we’d never heerd of afore. 
No, sir.” 

And Shagbark puffed hard at his pipe, 
which had nearly died out during the conver- 
sation. 

That night the train went into camp on the 
western bank of a stream fifty yards wide, but 
comparatively shallow. There was no diffi- 
culty in fording it, the women and children 
riding in the wagons without getting wet. 


136 


RACING FOR LIFE 


The current was clear and so icy that it was 
evident it had its source in the mountains. 

The wagons were ranged as usual in a circle 
with the animals surrounded, where there was 
enough grass for their supper. Some trouble 
was met in getting all the wood needed, but 
enough was obtained to serve for the prepara- 
tion of supper. By that time the air had be- 
come so chilly that the blaze was carefully 
nursed in order to reinforce the blankets. 
The effort, however, was not very successful. 

The fact that no Indians had been seen for 
the last two or three days did not affect the 
watchfulness of the company. The usual 
guards were stationed, and it again fell to the 
lot of Alden Payne to act as one of them. 
Jethro Mix was placed at the wagon which 
stood next to his, the duty of both being to 
serve until midnight. Shagbark, who seemed 
to sleep only now and then, for brief intervals, 
decided by and by, to take a long rest. He 
never occupied any of the wagons, but wrap- 
ping his heavy blanket around his shoulders, 
lay down near the smouldering camp fire, with 
the animals grouped on all sides. It was al- 
ways understood that if anything occurred he 
was to^ be roused at once. The men had 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 


137 


learned much during the long journey thither 
of the ways of the plains, but he never fully 
trusted them. 

The steady tramping, riding and the drag- 
ging of the heavy Conestogas made the rest 
welcome to men, women, children and to the 
animals. By nine o’clock everything was in 
the form it would be two hours later, provided 
no disturbance took place. 

Night had hardly shut in, when a mile or so 
to the westward the lights of another camp 
twinkled through the darkness. All knew it 
came from the party that had been traveling 
near them for several days past. Shagbark 
had spoken of riding forward with Alden and 
making a call upon the emigrants, but decided 
to wait a while. 

The night was similar to that of the Indian 
attack. Perhaps there were more clouds drift- 
ing across the sky, but the moon near the full, 
plowed through the snowy masses and made 
the illumination fitful and uncertain. Some- 
times one could see objects for a hundred yards 
and more, and then the view was shortened 
to half that distance. 

Alden was leaning against a wheel of the 
vehicle, in his favorite attitude. Now and 


138 


RACING FOR LIFE 


then when he felt a faint drowsiness stealing 
over him, he moved about for a brief space 
until he felt fully awake. Then he listened 
to the heavy breathing which came from some 
of the wagons, to the stamping of the horses, 
some of which were still on their feet, with 
an occasional murmur of voices from those who 
had not yet drifted into forgetfulness. 

Suddenly through the stillness, Jethro Mix 
called in a husky undertone : 

“Helloa, Al, am you dere?” 

“Of course I am; what do you want?” 

“Dere’s somebody out dere, and not fur off, 
too!” was the startling explanation of the hail. 
“Haben’t you seed him?” 

“No. Is it an Indian?” 

“Dunno; he’s on de back ob a boss; come 
ober here and take a look fur yourself.” 

Alden knew the objection to leaving his 
post, but he thought the circumstances justi- 
fied him in joining his friend ^for a few min- 
utes. He hastily crossed the intervening 
space. 

“Where did he show himself, Jeth?” 

“Right in front ob us; wait till dat cloud 
passes and you’ll see him suah.” 

The surprise came the next moment, when 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 


139 


the clearing sky disclosed not one, but two 
horsemen, a few rods away. They had halted 
their ponies and were sitting side by side, evi- 
dently studying the camp as if in doubt 
whether to venture nearer. The first sight 
showed they were not Indians, but white men. 
Two equestrian statues could not have been 
more motionless than they. 

Placing one hand as a funnel, Alden called 
in a low voice: 

“Helloa, neighbors! Why don’t you come 
forward?” 

By way of reply the couple twitched their 
reins and rode to the edge of the camp. 
Neither dismounted. Alden noted that one 
was a large, bearded man, while his compan- 
ion was a youth of about his own age. The 
two wore broad brimmed hats, which partly hid 
their features, but when the elder spoke, Alden 
fancied there was something familiar in his 
voice. 

‘‘Good evening, friends,” he said. “We 
meant to call earlier, and it has grown so late 
that we shall defer it to-night. I presume all 
except the guards have turned in?” 

“They did so some time ago; it will not 
do for us to leave our stations, but we shall 


140 


RACING FOR LIFE 


be glad to welcome you at any other time. 
You belong to the company that has gone into 
camp a little way from here?” 

“Yes; we have been in sight of each other 
for several days; had the situation become 
threatening because of Indians, I should have 
proposed that we unite, but everything seems 
to be peaceful.” 

“Have you had no trouble with them?” 

“None whatever, though we have seen many 
parties at a distance.” 

“We were attacked one night some weeks 
ago along the Platte, but drove them otf with- 
out harm to us.” 

“How was it with asked the man 

significantly. 

“We got several who were too venturesome.” 

Jethro could not restrain himself any longer. 

“Yas, and de fust warmint dat got soaked, 
he done it — suah as you’s born!” 

“I congratulate you on your success ; doubt- 
less it had much to do with repulsing your 
enemies.” 

“Jethro told you the incident so as to force 
me to say that he picked off another of the 
redskins. Incredible as it may sound, it is 
true.” 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 


141 


The man in the saddle looked down with re- 
newed interest upon the burly African, who 
had set the stock of his rifle on the ground, 
folded his arms over the muzzle, and assumed 
a lolling attitude, as if the matter was of no 
concern to any of them. 

“Dat ain’t nuffin,” he said airily; ‘‘de sar- 
pint fur got dat I was on de lookout fur him 
and as soon as he fired and missed, why, I 
plugged him; ’tain’t wuth speaking ’bout.” 

“Fortunate is that company which has two 
such sentinels as you,” commented the man, 
with something like a chuckle; “if we run into 
danger from Indians, shall we be able to bor- 
row you two, or if your friends cannot spare 
both, can we have one?” 

“Who would be your choice?” asked Alden, 
entering into the spirit of the moment. 

“Jethro, as you call him; of course he’s the 
most valuable.” 

“Dunno ’bout dat,” said the African with 
dignity; “de wimmin folks and de children 
will blubber so hard when dey find I think ob 
leabin’ dem dat Shagbark won’t be likely to 
allow it; howsumeber. I’ll think it ober.” 

“Thank you; you are very kind.” 

During the conversation, which continued 


142 


RACING FOR LIFE 


for several minutes longer, with nothing of 
moment said, the youth who accompanied the 
elder caller did not speak a word. He seemed 
to be peering from under his hat at Alden, as 
if studying him. 

“Well,” said the man, “we shall ride back 
to camp now and doubtless shall soon see you 
again. I need not assure you that you and 
your friends will be welcome at all times. My 
name is Garret Chadwick, and I have charge 
of the other company. My friend here is my 
nephew, Ross Brandley.” 

“Very glad to have met you. I am Alden 
Payne, and I am on my way from St. Joe to 
join my father, who left for California some 
months ago.” 

As Alden spoke he made a military salute 
to the two. The elder returned it, but his 
companion slightly nodded without speaking 
or saluting. The two then w^heeled their ani- 
mals and rode off at a walk. 

The incident showed there was nothing to 
be feared from hostiles for some time to come. 
Alden, therefore, did not scruple to linger for 
a few minutes with his sable friend. 

“Jeth, there was something familiar in that 
man’s voice.” 


OLD ACQUAINTANCES 143 

“Ob course dere was; doan’ you remember 
him?’’ 

“No; do you?” 

“You hain’t forgot dat splendid fout you 
begun wid dat chap in St. Joe when he butted 
into you?” 

“Certainly not.” 

“Wal, dat’s de gemman dat pulled you 
apart.” 

“And that fellow with him is the one who 
struck me?” 

“Suah’s you’s born; he knowed you, if you 
didn’t know him; I seed him watching you 
mighty sharp, as if he was achin’ to get an- 
other chance at you; he’d done it, too, if his 
uncle hadn’t been wid him.” 

“If the chance ever does come, he’ll find 
me ready,” said Alden, compressing his lips, 
for the memory of the insult rankled. “I re- 
member he called him ‘Ross’ in St. Joe, but 
forgot it a minute ago.” 

“Why doan’ you ask him to come alone and 
wisit us?” 

“If he called here it would be as my guest, 
and that would never do : it would be a breach 
of hospitality.” 

“Den go ober and wisit him.” 


144 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“That would place him in my position as 
it is now. No; we shall have to meet on com- 
mon ground. He must have thought I rec- 
ognized him,” added Alden with a thrill of 
disgust, “and wanted to make friends with 
him. I hope we shall come together pretty 
soon, where nothing can prevent a settlement 
of our quarrel.” 

“And dat ’minds me, Al, dat I haben’t tole 
you my big secret yit.” 

“I don’t care anything about your secret,” 
replied his master impatiently, for he was in 
anything but an amiable frame of mind. “At- 
tend to your duty and I will attend to mine.” 

With which the youth walked back to his 
own wagon and resumed his task of sentinel 
while most of the company slept. 


CHAPTER X 


A HUNT 

S INCE there was no call for haste, the 
progress of the emigrant train sometimes 
ceased altogether. This was the case on the 
morning following the incident just related. 
The cause of the stoppage was to permit Shag- 
bark to go a-hunting. They had entered a 
region some time before where game abound- 
ed, and his policy was to use as little of the 
reserve supplies as possible. The day was 
likely to come when they would have no other 
recourse. It was not practical to carry much 
fodder for the animals, but even that scant 
supply was hoarded against the inevitable 
“rainy day.’’ 

Although the American bison or buffalo 
has been virtually extinct for years, the ani- 
mals were numbered by the hundred thousand 
on the western plains at the time we have in 
mind. The droves seen in the distance seemed 
often to cover a fourth of the horizon, and 
10 145 


146 


RACING FOR LIFE 


their dark, shaggy backs as they cropped the 
herbage and hitched continually forward, were 
like the fretted waves of the sea. Shagbark 
had shot a number, and twice he took Alden 
and Jethro with him on the excursions. A 
nearly fatal result to Alden followed the at- 
tempted slaying of an enormous bull by shoot- 
ing him in the head instead of just behind the 
fore leg, but the mistake was not repeated. 
Jethro showed his natural timidity, and kept 
as close as he could to the veteran, while Al- 
den indulged in spurts of his own which more 
than once brought results. 

Shagbark, however, was not partial to buf- 
falo meat, which many of his friends found 
coarse and tough. They preferred venison, 
which was not always tender, and they were 
able to obtain considerable quantities of it. 
He regarded the antelope with more favor 
than either. So it came about on the morning 
referred to, that he and the two youths set 
out to shoot some of the timid creatures. Oc- 
casionally Mr. Fleming and some of his 
friends took part in the hunts, but they pre- 
ferred to stay in camp on this day and let the 
trio prove their prowess. 

The effect of this halt was to increase the 


A HUNT 


147 


distance between the party and the one in ad- 
vance, to which Garret Chadwick and his 
nephew belonged; for the latter company 
moved at an early hour and were many miles 
distant before nightfall. 

Antelope hunting has been too often de- 
scribed for me to dwell upon this particular 
venture. When the three rode over the plains 
to the northwest in the direction of the tower- 
ing Laramie Mountains, not one of the ani- 
mals was in sight, nor had the guide seen any 
on the previous day. He had been over the re- 
gion before, however, and knew he would not 
have to hunt long. 

He first headed toward a ridge which rose 
two hundred feet or more above the prairie, 
showing few boulders and rocks, and no trees. 
Beyond it stretched a beautiful valley to the 
foothills of the mountain range. This space 
was several miles in width, and a small, clear 
stream meandered through the valley, on its 
way to the Sweetwater, and thence to the 
North Platte. Shagbark gave it as his belief 
that some of the animals would be found in the 
valley, and, as usual, he was not mistaken. 

The American antelope or pronghorn is a 
native of the plains near the Rocky IMoun- 


148 


RACING FOR LIFE 


tains. Nearly always the upper parts of its 
body are yellowish brown in color, while the 
under parts, the sides and the head and throat 
and the buttocks are white. It sheds the bony 
sheath of its horns every year. It may be 
worth noting that this creature is known also 
by the names of prongbuck, pronghorned an- 
telope, cabree and cabut. 

The most peculiar trait of the antelope is 
its curiosity. But for this weakness, it would 
be almost impossible for a hunter to get within 
range of the game. Lying in the grass, 
where his body is invisible, the man lifts his 
hat or a handkerchief on the muzzle or ram- 
rod of his rifle. The moment the animal sees 
it he bounds off in a panic, but does not go 
far before he halts and looks back. The odd 
sight has roused his curiosity, and he gingerly 
draws near, ready to dash away again in the 
instant danger shows himself. 

All the hunter needs to have is patience. 
The creature is sure to come within reach of 
his gun and fall a victim to the infirmity that 
had proved the undoing of many a human be- 
ing. It is hard to understand this singular 
failing of the antelope. 


A HUNT 


149 


At the base of the ridge Shagbark drew 
rein and his companions did the same. 

“Don’t stir from hyar,” he said, “till I give 
ye the word.” 

Dismounting, he walked briskly up the slope 
until near the top. There he slackened his 
pace, stooped low, and reaching a favorable 
point, removed his hat and peeped cautiously 
over. Alden and Jethro, who were watching 
him, saw him remain stationary for a minute 
or two. ‘ Then he crouched still lower, donned 
his hat and hurried back to them. 

“Thar’s three of ’em,” he said, “and we 
oughter bag ’em all.” 

“I shall be glad to do my part,” replied 
Alden. 

“Which de same am likewise de fac’ as re- 
gards myself,” added Jethro. 

The guide explained his plan, which, it may 
be said, caused Alden mild surprise, inasmuch 
as it gave the African the post of honor. 
Shagbark had described so often the method 
employed in hunting the antelope that the 
youths understood it theoretically. It re- 
mained for them to prove that they had a prac- 
tical knowledge also. 


150 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Shagbark remarked that everything was in 
their favor. The slight breeze came directly 
from the animals, so it could not carry the 
scent of the hunters to them. In the circum- 
stances, with the protection of the grass, it 
ought to be easy to steal within gunshot of 
the game, provided their inquiring nature was 
turned to good account. 

Jethro was to move along the slope parallel 
with it, until he had gone an eighth of a mile, 
when he was to creep over the crest with the 
utmost caution and sneak into the grass on 
the other side. Once there he must advance 
slowly and with the utmost care toward the 
antelope. If they took the alarm, which they 
were almost certain to do, he should cease mov- 
ing, lie flat and raise his hat on the ramrod 
of his gun, one end of which was to be thrust 
into the soft earth. 

Then the old performance would follow. 
One or more of the animals would begin a 
timid, hesitating approach, frequently bound- 
ing or circling away for some distance, halt- 
ing and advancing again, hypnotized by the 
singular sight whose nature they could not 
fathom without a closer view. 

‘‘All ye’ve got to do is to lay still with yer 


A HUNT 


151 


gun p’inted and yer finger on the trigger till 
he comes within reach. Then let him have, it.” 

“What will become of de oders?” asked 
Jethro. 

“Well lend to them.” 

“Am de antelope a wery savage critter, Mr. 
Shagbark?” asked Jethro, with so much mis- 
giving as to rouse the waggery of the trapper. 

“He stands next to the grizzly b’ar: he kin 
use them horns and sharp hoofs and chaw up 
a wolf while ye’re winking an eye.” 

“Yas, sir,” said Jethro, swallowing a lump 
in his throat, as he set out to obey the direc- 
tions of the guide. 

Shagbark and Alden had little to do for an 
indefinite period except to watch the course 
of the African, who had every reason to look 
for success, since all the conditions, as the 
hunter had said, were favorable. In addition, 
it has been shown that the dusky youth was a 
fair marksman. 

He kept below the crest of the ridge and 
walked fast, until he had gone even farthe^ 
than told to go. Finally he crept up the slope, 
and like his director, removed his hat and cau- 
tiously looked over the summit of the ridge. 

He as well as the antelope was in sight all 


152 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the time, and Shagbark and Alden did not al- 
low any of his movements to escape them. 
They saw him pass slowly over the top of the 
elevation and down the other side, where it was 
not so easy to trace him, because of the abun- 
dance of grass which screened the amateur 
hunter. 

“Sometimes I think he isn’t such a big fool 
as he looks,” said the guide, after Jethro had 
begun worming his way through the vegeta- 
tion. “I couldn’t do any better than he’s done 
so fur, but it’s best to wait to see how he makes 
out.” 

“That is my opinion — ^helloa! what’s up 
now?” 

The largest of the animals, evidently a buck, 
was cropping the grass a few yards nearer 
the negro than were the other two animals. 
The three remained thus employed for some 
time after Jethro had left the base of the ridge. 
That which caused the exclamation of Alden 
was the action of the buck. He suddenly 
stopped grazing, threw his head high in air 
and stared in the direction of the invisible 
hunter. 

“He seems to be alarmed over something; 
it can’t be he has scented Jethro.” 


A HUNT 


153 


“I might think so, for it’s easy to do that 
with him^ if it warn’t that the wind blows the 
wrong way. But they’re mighty cute critters, 
and the buck is scared over something. Now’s 
the time when the darky oughter stop.” 

“He seems to have done that. He is half 
hidden by the grass, but I don’t think he is 
stirring.” 

From their elevation the couple by using 
care could peer over the crest without drawing 
the attention of the game to themselves. 
Looking down on the colored youth, as he was 
partly revealed, it was evident he had noticed 
the action of the prongbuck. Jethro had 
ceased moving, and sank so flat on the ground 
that the game became invisible to him. 

Waiting thus a few minutes, he slowly 
raised his head, parting the spears in front 
until once more he saw the game. 

The two had not stopped grazing for a mo- 
ment, and the buck now lowered his head and 
resumed feeding. If he had been alarmed his 
fears quickly left him. 

Jethro resumed his painstaking progress 
and kept it up until within two hundred yards 
of the group, no one of which raised a head. 
The distance was too great for a shot, though 


154 


RACING FOR LIFE 


he might have succeeded in his aim. Seeming 
to think he had gone far enough, the youth 
now resorted to the usual trick, which has been 
described. Drawing his ramrod from its place 
under the barrel of his rifle, he placed his hat 
over one end and pushed the other down in 
the ground so hard that it stood upright with- 
out aid from him. That which followed was 
beyond the comprehension of either Shagbark 
or Alden. 

The signal had hardly been set in place, 
when the buck flung up his head again. What 
induced him to do so cannot be told, unless it 
was that mysterious “sixth sense,” which some 
believe belongs to men and animals alike. 
There had not been the slightest noise, and 
it has been said that what little breeze was 
blowing could not carry the scent across the 
space. 

But the first glance of the buck was at the 
hat on the upright stick. Almost immediate- 
ly he wheeled and ran a dozen paces, his com- 
panions following. Then he paused, stared 
and walked toward the scarecrow, as it may 
be called. He did not go much nearer than 
before, and when he turned, ran round in a 


A HUNT 


155 


large circle, halted once more and repeated the 
movement described. 

This peculiar performance continued until 
the buck was no more than a hundred yards 
from the dusky hunter lying low in the grass. 
Then his halt and stare were longer than be- 
fore. His companions now caught to some 
extent his excitement. They discerned the 
cause, trotted here and there and back again, 
and looked and acted as if they wished to leave 
the spot, but could not shake off the attraction 
which drew them to the danger point. 

It was noticeable, however, that the females 
did not approach the signal so near as their 
leader. They were as content for him to take 
the main risk as he was to take it upon himself. 

“Why doesn’t Jethro fire?” asked Alden im- 
patiently; “the antelope is within easy range, 
and he can bring him down dead sure.” 

“I’ve been wondering over the same thing,” 
said Shagbark; “he can shoot from the grass 
or stand up and pick off the critter afore he 
turns. That’ll send the others this way and 
we^ll pick ’em off. What’s the matter with 
the chump?” 

Jethro had partly risen from the ground and 


156 


RACING FOR LIFE 


was seen more clearly by his friends. From 
his position the shot would have been an easy 
one. Shagbark had expected from the first 
that the African would make such an attempt. 
The plan, as has been shown, would have 
bagged all three of the antelope. 

Jethro was seen to rise higher, though still 
stooping, and grasp his gun, which, however, 
he did not bring to his shoulder. Then he 
suddenly wheeled without firing a shot and 
ran at headlong speed directly away from the 
buck! 

The most forcible exclamation that Alden 
Payne had ever heard from the lips of Shag- 
bark was uttered at the astounding sight. 
The terrified buck had turned and dashed off 
with the speed of the wind in the opposite di- 
rection, running so swiftly that he drew away 
from his two charges. 

“Don’t stir,” whispered the guide; “I’ll take 
the buck and you the one next to him; don’t 
fire till I give the word.” 

The two were lying on their faces with their 
guns pointed over the crest of the ridge. 
The three animals in their panic came not 
straight toward the couple, but took a diagonal 


A HUNT 


157 


course which promised to bring them within 
easy range. Their extreme sensitiveness to 
scent and sound was familiar to Shagbark, and 
he knew they would turn aside before coming 
very near. 

The buck detected his danger a minute later. 
In running from one of the ogres that strode 
through the country on two legs, he was lead- 
ing his charges directly upon another. 

In the same instant that the new peril 
flashed upon him, he veered abruptly to the 
right, still skimmnig the prairie with amazing 
speed. 

“Now!” whispered Shagbark, pressing the 
trigger of his weapon. 

There was only a second or two between the 
reports, and it is enough to say that each shot 
was perfect in its way. Like all their species, 
the antelope ran quite a distance after being 
mortally smitten. 

The third was far beyond reach before either 
could reload his piece. Jethro would have 
fired had not the new turn of affairs thrown 
him out of range of all the animals. Seeing 
the two fall, he trotted forward with a huge 
grin on his ebon countenance. Allowing the 


158 


RACING FOR LIFE 


carcasses for Shagbark to look after, the an- 
gered Alden turned upon the servant and ex- 
claimed : 

“Of all fools that I ever saw you’re the 
champion!” 

“How’s dat?” asked Jethro, still smiling. 

“When you had the best chance in the world 
to bring down that buck why didn’t you do it, 
instead of running away from him?” 

Jethro shook with exulting laughter. 

“You can’t fool dis chile; I reasoned- out de 
whole thing. Mr. Shagbark tole me how dem 
critters chaw and stomp and bite a feller; I 
knowed dat if I brunged down dis one, it 
would make de oder two so mad dey’d come at 
me afore I could load up ag’in, and you 
wouldn’t hah any Jeth any more. So I luft; 
dem antelopes am wery rewengeful — wery re- 
wengeful — and I’se too smart to gib ’em de 
chance dey wanted to lambast me.” 


CHAPTER XI 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 

N O argument could be held with such intel- 
ligence as this. Shagbark, with a queer 
expression on his bearded countenance, looked 
at the grinning Jethro, but did not speak. 
Possibly he felt that he was blamable in the 
matter, for it had been his awful words that 
caused the senseless panic of the colored 
youth, and made him flee from before a harm- 
less antelope, when the lad had a loaded rifle 
in his hands and knew how to use it. 

Alden was so amazed that at first he sus- 
pected his dusky friend was jesting, but there 
could be no doubt of his earnestness. Jethro 
was confident that he had saved his life by his 
own brightness. 

‘Tt’s too much for me,” commented Alden 
with a shake of his head. 

When all three were in their saddles, they 
rode out to where the two carcasses lay at the 
foot of the slope. Shagbark compelled Jeth- 
159 


160 


RACING FOR LIFE 


ro to dismount and help sling the body of the 
buck across the back of the pony and balance 
in front of the saddle. Since the animal 
weighed nearly as much as the African him- 
self, the veteran ordered him to walk beside 
his horse and hold the burden in place until 
the party reached camp. The female which 
had been shot was so much lighter that Shag- 
bark took it on the back of his powerful steed 
with him. The burden was weighty, but the 
distance was not far, and all moved at a mod- 
erate walk. 

At the moment of starting, the sun was 
shining from a clear sky. Ten minutes later 
the radiance turned a dull leaden hue, and all 
three were wrapped in the swirl of a furious 
snow squall. The millions of big flakes, ed- 
died and spun around and so filled the air that 
they could not see one another, when they 
wxre barely ten feet apart. Shagbark called 
to the two to fall in line behind him and not 
stop. They bent their heads and pushed on, 
leaving the direction to the ponies. 

Presto! the squall ended as quickly as it 
began. At the close of fifteen minutes not 
a flake was in the air. The ground was cov- 
ered with a thin white sheet which speedily 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


161 


melted in the warm rays of the sun. The ra- 
dius of the curious flurry was so slight that it 
was speedily left behind them. 

Jethro led his pony alongside of Alden’s 
mare. The guide, as was his custom when 
riding with the emigrant train, kept a brief 
way in advance, looking straight ahead and 
paying no attention to the two behind him. 

“Say, Al, what’s de matter wid Mr. Shag- 
bark?” asked Jethro, lowering his voice. 

“Nothing; why do you ask?” 

“What’s he gwine back to de ridge fur? 
Does he wanter shoot some more antelopes?” 

It seemed to Alden that the hunter had 
turned from the direct course, but the youth 
knew he had good reason for doing so. 

“If you will look to the right you will see 
that he isn’t riding toward the ridge.” 

“Don’t make no difference; we’ll neber git 
home if we trabel the way he’s gwine now.” 

“If you think best, you might point out his 
mistake to him.” 

“Gorrynation! he’s too touchy for me to 
put in my oar; you am de one to set him 
right.” 

“I must first know that he is wrong; wait 
until then.” 

11 


16 ^ 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Accordingly Jethro held his peace, though 
he often muttered to himself. He was silent, 
however, when the circle of Conestogas, with 
the men, women and children moving outside 
and among them came in sight. Shagbark 
had kept to a bee line from the last starting 
point to the emigrant camp. 

The forenoon was not half gone, hut Shag- 
bark decided that the party should rest until 
after the midday meal. As has been ex- 
plained, there was no need of haste, and the 
occasional halts did the oxen and horses good. 
They could crop the grass at their leisure, and 
though capable of long continued strain, the 
cessation was none the less grateful to the 
patient, plodding animals. 

Shagbark dressed and roasted the two car- 
casses. No chef could have done the w6rk bet- 
ter. The odor of the broiling meat whetted 
every appetite and the meal was one of the 
most satisfying of which they had partaken 
since crossing the Missouri. Enough “frag- 
ments” remained to serve quite well for a 
lighter feast, and they were carefully laid aside 
for that purpose. It was about two o’clock 
when the yokes were adjusted to the necks of 
the oxen, the horsemen swung into their sad- 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


163 


dies, and the cavalcade headed for Fort La- 
ramie, on the other side of the mountain spur 
which bears the latter half of that name. 

From the saddle, Alden Payne scrutinized 
the country to the north, the west and the 
south. He was searching for the company 
with which his enemy Ross Brandley was trav- 
eling. His one regret was that the antelope 
hunt had lessened the probability of meeting 
that combative young man. Like many a mis- 
taken youth, Alden was sure he could not be 
happy until he had evened up matters between 
them. 

“He nearly knocked me over in the first 
place,” reflected the youth for the hundredth 
time, “and when I protested, he insulted me, 
put up his fists, and got in a blow. What 
roils me,” added Alden to himself, with a flash 
of the eye and a compression of the lips, “is 
that he must have taken my politeness last 
night for fear of him. If I had only known 
who he was, I should have said something that 
would have made his cheeks tingle. It will be 
strange if we miss each other, for we are both 
anxious to meet, and, after all, there can’t be 
so very many miles between us.” 

Far ahead towered the Laramie range, the 


164f 


RACING FOR LIFE 


peaks, softened by the intervening miles, 
gradually taking on a clearer view, as the sep- 
arating distance was lessened. To the north- 
ward country was undulating or level, mostly 
covered with the billowy, succulent lush grass, 
which makes the region one of the finest graz- 
ing grounds in the world. 

Halting Firebug, so that his gait should 
not interfere with his sight, the young man 
studied the outlook in that direction. He was 
thus employed when Shagbark drew rein be- 
side him. 

“Wal, younker, what do ye make of it?’ 

‘Tt seems to me,” replied Alden, lowering 
the binocular, ‘‘that I can see a faint, bluish 
shadowy outline of something in the horizon. 
Is it a mountain range?” 

“That’s what it is,” said Shagbark; “ye’re 
looking at the Medicine Bow Mountains, 
which lay a good many miles south; afore long 
they’ll fade out of yer sight; see anything 
else?” 

Alden raised the glasses again and studied 
the section. ^ 

“I see the white tents of an emigrant train 
well to the southwest and several miles behind 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


165 


them, other wagons, both slowly pushing west- 
ward.” 

“Ye’re right; I wonder how many hundred 
of ’em there is atween St. Joe and Sacra- 
mento?” 

“It isn’t possible, Shagbark, that either of 
those trains is the one to which Mr. Chadwick 
belongs?” 

The veteran guffawed. 

“Ef it war Jeth that asked that tom fool 
question I shouldn’t be ’sprised, but I didn’t 
look for anything like it from yerself, youn- 
ker. How could the company ye’re speaking 
off, which war a purty long way to the north- 
west swing round into that part of the world, 
’specially when there ain’t any reason for them 
doing so?” 

“It wasn’t a sensible question, Shagbark, 
but it was caused by my wish to meet that chap 
who visited us with his uncle last night.” 

The hunter looked curiously at his young 
friend, but said nothing. The simple minded 
fellow was not without a natural share of 
curiosity, but he asked no question. What 
may be called a rude delicacy restrained him. 
If Alden chose to tell him more, he would lis- 


166 


RACING FOR LIFE 


ten, but it rested with the young man himself. 

The latter was on the point of describing 
that affray on the streets of St. Joe, but a 
curious feeling of shame restrained him. He 
was not sure how the veteran would view it. 
He might discourage the resolution of Alden, 
though the probabilities were the other way. 

“He can’t dissuade me, but I don’t want 
him to try. If I let him know I am eager to 
meet that fellow again, he will do all he can 
to help, without my saying anything further.” 

The two resumed their riding in advance of 
the company, and after a few minutes’ silence 
the guide, speaking with his briarwood be- 
tween his lips said : 

“Thar’s one thing that may comfort ye, 
younker.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Most of the companies that’s tramping 
’cross the plains do as we done, — ^that is they 
don’t hurry, which ain’t never a good thing 
unless thar’s no help fur it. Them folks that 
ye want to see will stop to rest while we’re 
pushing on, jest as we done.” 

“That being so,” said the pleased Alden; 
“we stand a fair chance of coming up with 
them between here and Salt Lake?” 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


167 


'‘Yas; long afore we get that fur.” 

‘T am glad to hear you say that.” 

“And I’m mighty glad that ye are glad,” 
grimly commented Shagbark, who proceeded 
to explain that the Laramie Range would be 
crossed some fifty miles to the south of Fort 
Laramie. A depression there made an easy 
passage through the rugged spur, whose west- 
ern slope would be followed northward to the 
military post named. The same direction was 
to be held before turning westward again. 
This was the route of the trains and Pony Ex- 
press riders, who followed the line of the least 
resistance as may be said. 

By that time they would be well into the 
prodigious mountainous region which would 
confront them for a thousand miles or more, 
for it is the foothills of the Rockies. The 
present state of Colorado is traversed by the 
main axis or continental divide of the Rocky 
Mountains which there finds its greatest north- 
ern development. The culminating crest of 
the main range is the Wind River Mountains 
in the west-central part of the State, which is 
traversed by numerous other ranges, includ- 
ing the Big Horn in the north-central section, 
the Laramie Mountains already mentioned, 


168 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the Medicine Bow in the south; north of them 
the Sweetwater and Rattlesnake ranges, and 
in the west the Teton, Shoshone and Gros Ven- 
tres mountains. The extreme northeast is 
penetrated by the Black Hills from South 
Dakota. The loftiest peak is Fremont’s in 
the Wind River Mountains, two and a half 
miles high, with others of almost as great 
elevation. 

The Wind River Mountains display that re- 
markable fact which is probably familiar to 
our readers. Rain falling in a comparative 
brief area divides so that some of the drops 
flow westward and find their way into the Co- 
lumbia and thence to the Pacific. Another 
part of the rainfall or melted snow winds its 
way ultimately to the Colorado and into the 
Gulf of California, while a third gropes to 
the Missouri and finally into the Gulf of Mex- 
ico. The southeastern part of the State, 
through which our friends were journeying, 
is drained by the North Fork of the Platte 
and its affluents, including the Laramie and 
Sweetwater rivers, the Lodge Pole, Rock, 
Poison Spring, Medicine Bow, Horse and 
Rawhide creeks. It may be added that that 
grand national playground known as the Yel- 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


169 


lowstone Park covers a wide area in the north- 
western corner of the State. 

One of the most deceptive things is distance 
on the plains and among the mountains. Al- 
den Payne was certain of reaching the base of 
the Laramie range before the company went 
into camp at nightfall, but as the afternoon 
drew to a close, the wild region seemed as far 
off as ever. 

‘Tf all goes well we shall strike ’em by to- 
morrow night,” commented Shagbark; “how- 
sumever ye have observed that another com- 
pany has camped two miles off on the same 
creek that we’re going to use.” 

“Is there any possibility of its being the one 
that Mr. Chadwick is with?” asked Alden. 

“Shouldn’t be ’sprised, but thar ain’t no way 
of telling without making a call.” 

“I think I shall ride over just before dusk 
and find out.” 

“Nobody’ll object to that; will ye go alone?” 

Alden hesitated. His first intention was to 
ask Shagbark to accompany him, but the un- 
certainty of his sentiments caused the youth 
to decide otherwise. He would take Jethro, 
for companionship, rather than for any help 
he could give. Shagbark made no comment 


170 


RACING FOR LIFE 


on the decision, and it is not likely he cared one 
way or the other. 

Sometime later, Alden dropped back to the 
main body, where he turned over his pony to 
the care of Jethro, and entered the wagon in 
which Mrs. Fleming and several of the women 
were riding. He apologized for intruding, 
though he was ever welcome. He explained 
that he wished to do some writing. 

Seating himself with his back against the 
side of the Conestoga, as it lumbered easily 
over the plain, Alden drew out his note book, 
sharpened his lead pencil and framed the fol- 
lowing : 

‘‘Ross Brandley, Sir, — I did not recognize 
you when you called last night with Mr. Chad- 
wick. Had I known at the time who you 
were (my colored servant told me afterward) , 
you would have heard some plain words from 
me, though coming as our guest, I should have 
treated you with politeness which probably you 
would not have appreciated. Fearing that a 
similar restraint may be upon you when I re- 
turn the call, I hand you this note. 

“I ask you to ride after me as I return, un- 
til I reach a point midway between our camps. 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


171 


I shall wait there for you. We shall then be 
upon neutral ground and I challenge you to a 
finish fight with fists as weapons. This would 
have been the case in St. Joe had not your 
relative, fearing you would suffer harm, car- 
ried you away, though it was plain to me that 
he did not have much trouble in getting you 
beyond my reach. 

“Alden Payne.” 

Alden read this belligerent message and 
smiled. He was pleased with it. 

“Those last words will hit him hard. A fel- 
low would rather be called anything than a 
coward. I can’t say he showed any sign of 
wishing to sneak out, and when I remark that 
his uncle didn’t have any trouble in luggiiig 
him off, I suppose I exaggerate, but I want 
to make sure the scamp doesn’t find an excuse 
for dodging a square, stand up fight. I don’t 
think I can improve the letter.” 

He folded the paper and wrote the name of 
Brandley on the outside, after which he placed 
the slip between the pages of his note book 
which was shoved into the inner pocket of his 
coat. Without consulting the women around 
him or letting them know what was in the 


17 ^ 


RACING FOR LIFE 


wind, he sprang out of the wagon to the 
ground. 

A few minutes later the halt for the night 
was made. Alden told Jethro he intended to 
visit the camp in front and wished him to go 
along. 

“I ’spose you’ll wait till after supper?” in- 
quired the servant. 

“Of course; I know how much it would hurt 
you to miss a meal.” 

“I’m allers ready to take keer oh you, Al,” 
remarked the servant in an aggrieved voice. 

What a fatality often attends small things! 
Jethro had no suspicion that the company in 
advance was the one from which the two vis- 
itors had come the night before. Alden did 
not aim to hide the fact from him, but simply 
omitted to mention it. Had Jethro known 
the meaning of this evening call, he would 
have forced his master to hear the momentous 
secret which the dusky youth had been carry- 
ing for weeks. And had that secret been re- 
vealed, Alden Payne would have made a most 
important change in his programme. 

Since it was not so to be, the two after the 
evening meal, cinched their saddle girths and 
rode out on the plain. They took a course al- 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


173 


most due west. The camp fires of the other 
party twinkled like stars in the horizon, and 
the space was covered in less than half an 
hour, the horsemen riding at an easy gallop. 

As he drew near, Alden was struck by the 
resemblance of the camp to his own. The 
eight wagons were ranged in a similar circle 
and the emigrants seemed to number nearly the 
same. They had mules, however, in addition 
to oxen and horses. All were cropping the 
grass, while a small stream of icy water flowed 
within their convenient reach. 

The guards had not yet been placed, though 
such a precaution would not be long delayed, 
for it was unsupposable that any company of 
emigrants should have penetrated thus far on 
their journey to the Pacific without learning 
the lesson which Shagbark had impressed upon 
his charges from the day they crossed the 
Missouri. 

Little or no notice was taken of the two 
horsemen until they rode up to the nearest 
wagon. The animals were guided to one side 
where the big camp fire threw out its rays, 
which were reflected from the ponies and their 
riders. 

‘T’ll stay on Jilk and wait fur you to come 


RACING FOR LIFE 


back/’ said Jethro; “I doan’ think any ob dem 
folks keers ’bout seeing me,” 

Alden did not object, and had hardly swung 
out of the saddle to the ground, when two men 
came forward to greet him. One was unusu- 
ally tall, the other of medium height and both 
wore heavy beards. The youth scanned them 
closely, in the partial obscurity, but neither 
was Mr. Chadwick. They cordially greeted 
the visitor and invited him to go forward and 
join in their meal. Most of the group were 
gathered around the “festal board,” which 
happened just then to be their blankets spread 
on the green grass. 

“I thank you,” replied Alden, “but my serv- 
ant and myself partook just before leaving 
our own camp. This is really a business 
rather than a social call.” 

“In what way can we serve you?” 

“I have a letter which I shall be glad if you 
will hand to a member of your party.” 

Alden drew out his note book and took the 
folded paper from between the pages. 

“Perhaps it will be better if I give it to Mr. 
Chadwick and ask him to hand it to his nephew 
Ross Brandley. I owe a call to Mr. Chad- 
wick.” 


A DISAPPOINTMENT 


175 


The two men glanced in surprise at Alden. 
He of the shorter statue was about to reach 
out his hand to take the missive but refrained. 

‘T do not recognize the names you mention.” 

The elder is Garret Chadwick and his 
nephew, who I judge is nearly my own age, 
is Ross Brandley. The note is for the 
younger.” 

“Sorry, but I never heard of them before.” 

“Then,” said the disappointed Alden, “they 
cannot be members of your party.” 

“They are not; we have never met either.^’ 

“I beg your pardon for my mistake; you 
will excuse me for not remaining. I thank 
you for your courtesy, and you and your 
friends have my best wishes for a pleasant 
journey to the other side of the continent.” 

The trio exchanged military salutations, 
after the men had repeated their invitation for 
the visitor to go forward and meet other mem- 
bers of the company. Alden put his foot in 
the stirrup and sprang into the saddle. 

“Too bad,” he muttered, “but I shall meet 
that fellow before many days.” 

He was right in his surmise, but little did he 
dream of the circumstances which were to at- 
tend that memorable meeting. 


CHAPTER XII 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 

I T would be interesting to trace the progress 
of the emigrant train westward for the 
following weeks, but, there would be a certain 
monotony in the narration. The routine went 
on for days with little variation. Making 
their way through the Laramie range, they 
went northward along the western slope, over 
the course of the Laramie River, after spend- 
ing a night in camp near the old fort where 
they were hospitably treated by the garrison. 
Where the Laramie River rushes eastward 
through the mountain range, they turned in 
the opposite direction toward the famous 
South Pass, that wide gateway through the 
great Rocky Mountains. Beyond that they 
were to travel southwest and past Fort 
Bridger to Salt Lake City. 

It was the glad summer time, but the trav- 
elers suffered little from the heat which is 
often unbearable in the deserts and valleys. 
176 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 177^ 

Most of the country is so elevated that the 
climate is delightful throughout the warm 
months. Despite the season, however, they 
were caught in more than one terrific snow 
storm while groping through the foothills, and 
once a driving rain and sleet seemed to chill 
men and animals to their bones. But for the 
big fires that were kindled and kept vigor- 
ously going, Alden Payne believed some of 
them would have perished. 

“As fur dis chile,” chattered Jethro, with his 
thick blanket wrapped about him to his ears; 
“I shan’t get warm fur sebenteen yeahs.” 

“Ye must have patience,” remarked the 
grim Shagbark; “yer turn will come after 
ye cross the Big Divide.” 

The African failed to catch the point of this 
significant remark, though it caused smiles on 
the part of the other listeners. 

Shots had been exchanged with prowling 
Indians fully a score of times. It was extraor- 
dinary that although there were many nar- 
row escapes on the part of the white men, not 
one had been so much as wounded. Shag- 
bark was confident that he picked off one or 
two dusky prowlers. 

One afternoon he was riding alone in front 
12 


178 


RACING FOR LIFE 


of the train, which was then making its labori- 
ous way through a series of foothills. He 
was in one of his moods when he wished to have 
no companion, — ^not even his favorite “youn- 
ker,” Alden Payne. Suddenly from the 
cliffs on his right rang the sharp report of a 
rifle. There could be no mistaking the target, 
for the bowl of his briarwood pipe was shat- 
tered and sent flying into space, leaving only 
a stump of the stem between his lips. 

It may be doubted whether any incident in 
his stormy life had ever thrown the guide into 
such a rage as this occurrence. He turned his 
head like a flash and glared at the point from 
which the shot had come. He detected the 
faint blue wreath curling upward from behind 
a huge boulder and was off his horse in a 
twinkling. His friends saw him dash up the 
cliff and pass from sight. They did not 
check the train, but since they were following 
a well marked trail, were confident he would 
soon return. When night closed in, however, 
and they went into camp he was still absent. 

The guards were placed with the usual care 
and every man was on the alert. It was about 
midnight, when Fleming the leader heard a 
soft whistle from somewhere among the rocks 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 179 


which towered on their left. He recognized 
the signal and answered. The next minute 
Shagbark emerged from the gloom, made a 
few inquiries and waited until the change of 
the watchers took place. Then he lay down 
in his blanket and slept until daylight. He 
had not said a word about what had taken 
place while he was away, nor did he refer to 
it afterward. Alden Payne and his friends, 
however, noticed one peculiar fact: the hunter 
brought back another pipe with him. It was 
very different in structure from his former 
briarwood, being made of a species of clay 
baked red, and had a long reed for the stem. 
This he shortened to five or six inches and it 
served quite well as a substitute for the one 
destroyed. Alden was tempted to question 
him as to the means by which he procured it, 
but he had too much respect for the moods of 
the man to ask him any questions. 

The long journey through the wild moun- 
tainous regions was so free from real danger 
that it gave some of the company an undue 
sense of security. They advanced with much 
caution and were well guarded day and night. 
They believed the red men as they peered out 
from their hiding places were afraid to at- 


180 


RACING FOR LIFE 


tack them. Beyond a doubt this was largely 
true, but Shagbark warned his friends against 
placing too much reliance on the fact. He re- 
minded them that the “varmints” were as pa- 
tient in waiting their chance as a pack of 
wolves on the track of a wounded buffalo or 
worn out deer. 

Among all there was none fonder of hunt- 
ing than Alden Payne and his servant Jethro 
Mix. With the consent of the guide, they 
sometimes went out with him, but oftener ven- 
tured afield without his company. The col- 
ored youth proved his proficiency by bring- 
ing down some animal, generally of a species 
that served as an addition to the provision sup- 
ply. In the course of these hunts, the youths 
secured between them specimens of the coy- 
ote, puma, wild cat, wolverine and in one in- 
stance a black bear. 

Jethro in the last occurrence insisted that 
their prize was the largest grizzly bear that 
ever infested the Bockies and the mountain- 
ous neighborhood ; but, since the specimen 
could not have weighed more than two hun- 
dred pounds, the youth was forced to admit 
his mistake. 

“If ye run agin a grizzly,” said Shagbark, 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 181 


when the incident was told him, ‘‘ye won’t 
have no doubt of it. Besides you hain’t 
reached the region yet where ye’re likely to 
tumble over them little playthings.” 

Alden naturally was anxious to shoot a griz- 
zly and hoped he would do so long before 
reaching Salt Lake. Jethro’s ambition at 
times was the same, but he was often in doubt. 
Shagbark told so many appalling stories of 
that monarch of the western wilds, that the 
negro thought it would be just as well in case 
they met a grizzly not to pick a quarrel with 
him. 

Now and then they caught glimpses of a 
Pony Express rider. Twice these coursers of 
the plains passed so near the camp that they 
exchanged greetings with the emigrants but 
neither did more than rein his pony down to 
a walk. The minutes were too precious to 
indulge in gossip, and after a few unimpor- 
tant words they were off again and thundered 
from sight. 

On a certain delightful afternoon in sum- 
mer, Alden and Jethro were several miles from 
the train, engaged in one of the hunts of 
which they had become very fond. They had 
left their friends two or three hours before, 


18S 


RACING FOR LIFE 


and although they saw deer and a few buf- 
faloes, in no case could they get near enough 
for a shot. 

“This is the worst luck we have had for over 
a week,” commented the dissatisfied Alden. 

“Dere’s no saying what we’ll git afore we 
goes back to camp,” replied Jethro; “I has a 
sort oh feeling dat we’re gwine to run into a 
flock oh grizzlies.” 

“Suppose we do, what is your plan?” 

“Jest load and fire as fast as we kin till 
we’ve tumbled ’em all ober on dere heads, and 
den scoot fur camp.’ 

“I think you’ll do the scooting before you 
bring down a grizzly, but Shagbark told us 
that we are not in a section where we are likely 
to meet any of those animals.” 

Being well convinced on this point, Jethro 
could afford to pose. 

“It gibs me a big pain to larn dat, ’cause 
I’se been reckoning on getting one oh de big- 
gest of dem critters in de hull West.” 

“It may be Shagbark is mistaken, in spite 
of what he told us!” 

Jethro who was riding beside his master, 
looked in a scared way at him. 

“You doan’ think dat kin be so!” 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 183 


‘‘He is an old hunter, but not too old to 
make a mistake now and then. Sometimes too 
wild animals leave their habitats and wander 
far afield.’ 

This high sounding sentence was framed 
purposely for the mystification of Jethro, who 
repeated wonderingly : 

“What am a habitat? Do you mean a rous- 
ing big grizzly?’ 

“The habitat of an animal is the region 
where he makes his home: sometimes a wild 
beast takes it into his head to stray a good 
many miles from where he has been brought 
up and educated. There would be nothing 
wonderful in our meeting a grizzly bear this 
minute.” 

“Gorrynation! You doan’ say so!” ex- 
claimed Jethro glancing on each side and be- 
hind them. 

“Won’t you be glad to bag one of the mon- 
sters ?” 

“O yas, I ’spose so, but Mr. Shagbark spoke 
about another kind oh bear dat he said was 
almost as bad as de grizzly.” 

“What is its name?” 

“He called it a nutmeg or clove bear — I dis- 
remember which,” 


184 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden broke into laughter: 

‘‘You mean a cinnamon bear; yes I have 
heard they are ugly customers to drive into a 
corner.” 

“’Spose dey dribe you into a corner, eh?” 

“That would be worse, but we have a gun 
apiece and know how to use it.” 

“Dat am so, but Mr. Shagbark said as how 
it sometimes took a dozen shots to bring down 
one ob dem grizzlies.” 

“That must be because the aim was poor. 
One bullet sent right will drop an elephant.” 

“Am we likely to see any elufunts?” asked 
the amazed Jethro. 

“Hardly, unless he is an estray from some 
menagerie, and there isn’t any temptation for 
menageries to visit unsettled countries,” said 
the amused Alden. 

At the time of this conversation the young 
men were riding through a pass or canon, 
which had a varying width of two or three 
hundred yards to two or more times that space. 
During the spring thaw, or when there was a 
cloudburst, it must have been swept by a tu- 
multuous torrent which carried everything be- 
fore it. Enormous boulders, scattered here 
and there, had been rolled from considerable 

j 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 185 


distances, while others had been carried still 
farther down the ravine. 

The trail followed the right of the gorge 
and was broad enough to allow any emigrant 
train to move freely without stringing out to 
a dangerous degree. The slope was steadily 
upward for a fourth of a mile, when it reached 
a nearly level plateau, and wound in and out 
among rocks, stunted pines, gnarled cedars, 
and ravines, interspersed with valleys and 
comparatively smooth stretches, with now and 
then a mountain torrent across which the 
travelers made their way with difficulty. 

Alden and Jethro still rode with their ponies 
side by side, for the space was abundant. The 
incline compelled them to walk their animals, 
although such would have been their pace had 
the ground been level. There was no call to 
hasten their horses, while it would have in- 
volved considerable risk. 

As they rode each glanced from side to 
side. The same thought was in the minds of 
both. If they were under the eyes of any 
prowling Indians, the two were at their mercy, 
for hiding places from which their enemies 
could fire without the slightest risk to them- 
selves were beyond counting. 


186 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Since the afternoon was drawing to a close 
and the train was several miles to the rear, Al- 
den was on the point of suggesting that they 
make their way back to their friends, when 
both were startled by the noise of a horse’s 
hoofs behind them. They looked round at the 
same instant. 

“A Pony Express Eider,” said Alden, “and 
he’s coming our way.” 

Such was the fact. Despite the slope, the 
man’s horse continued on a gallop until he 
came alongside the couple. Then he reined 
up and rode with them. 

“I can’t well afford to wait,” he explained, 
“but it won’t do to push my pony too hard. 
I am glad to have company a little way.” 

“And we are glad to have you,” responded 
Alden. 

The man who addressed them looked no 
older than themselves, but he was more than 
twenty years of age. His face was smooth 
shaven, his complexion clear and his eyes 
bright. His weight could not have been much 
above a hundred pounds, and a glance revealed 
his perfect horsemanship. Alden noted the 
mail pouches strapped one in front of his 
knees and the other behind him, and each se- 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 187 


cured by a lock. He carried a rifle in his left 
hand and a revolver showed at his hip. He 
was a fine specimen of the superb Express 
Rider, temperate, brave, alert, and with ex- 
traordinary powers of endurance. 

When Alden had explained the cause of 
himself and servant being so far in advance 
of the train, the rider said: 

“I passed them two or three miles back. 
If you will permit me, I advise you to lose no 
time in returning to them.” 

“Why?” 

“You are approaching a dangerous region; 
I have had two scrimmages with Indians with- 
in the last month.” 

“Gorrynation!” muttered Jethro, eager to 
turn back without advancing another step. 

“I thank you for your advice, but it is so 
pleasant to have your company we shall ride 
a little farther with you.” 

“My name is Dick Lightfoot,” announced 
the genial stranger. 

Alden gave his own and that of Jethro and 
then asked: 

“How far have you come?” 

“From the last station eight miles back; I 
have more than twenty miles to go.” 


188 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Not with that pony?” 

“No; it would be too great a strain on him; 
our stations are some ten miles apart and at 
each we change horses. I ride ten or a dozen 
miles more, then change again and keep on to 
the second station which is the end of my run. 
There I meet the return rider and another 
chap takes my place for the next thirty miles.” 

“How do you like the life?” asked Alden. 

The eyes of the young rider sparkled. 

“It suits me down to the ground. It stirs 
one’s blood to dash over the plains, through 
the mountain files and across plateaus at head- 
long speed; we have to make an average of 
over twelve miles an hour. I’m not doing it 
now, but when the chance offers, I shall even 
matters by going at a rate of twenty or twen- 
ty-five miles.” 

“That is almost railroad time,” replied Al- 
den admiringly. 

“It beats the railway trains in many places.’^ 

“But you are always in danger.” 

“That’s what adds to the fun; the speed 
itself gives a man a thrill and the possibility 
of ambush, a treacherous shot or an open at- 
tack sets the blood tingling.” 

“And you keep at it all the time?” 


A NOT UNCOMMON INCIDENT 189 


‘‘That has to be done; rain, snow, hail, cold, 
heat, night, day, — makes no difference. This” 
added Dick Lightfoot in his cheery voice and 
with his pleasant smile, “is the rush line across 
the continent.” 

“Do you never lose your way?” 

“Impossible; every horse knows his route; 
this animal that has my name — Dick — knows 
the path better than I, and that means the 
whole thirty-odd miles. When it is so dark 
that I can hardly see his ears, I let the lines 
lie loose, and he never goes astray; I wouldn’t 
trade my job for that of President of the 
United States.” 

There could be no mistake as to the young 
man’s enthusiasm. During the brief conver- 
sation his pony, like the others, kept walking 
briskly. At the top of the incline the rider 
waved a good bye to his new acquaintances, 
and the horse of his own accord struck into a 
gallop which speedily carried him out of sight 
around a sweeping curve in the trail. 

Jethro Mix had taken no part in the chat, 
for he had no right to do so, but he did not al- 
low a word to escape him. 

“I say, Al, now’s a good time to turn back, 
don’t you think?” he anxiously suggested. 


190 


RACING FOR LIFE 


‘We’ll ride a little farther; we have plenty 
of time to make camp before dark.” 

“Dere ain’t no sense in doing dat,” growled 
Jethro, who dared not leave the side of his 
comrade and master. 

Less than fifteen minutes later the two rode 
round the bend in the path. Alden passed 
slightly ahead of his companion, but his pony 
had taken less than a dozen steps, when he 
sharply drew the rein with a startled excla- 
mation. 

He did not need to add anything by way of 
explanation. No more than a hundred yards 
distant the pony of Dick Lightfoot was stand- 
ing motionless, with his head upraised and 
staring in alarm at the opposite bluffs. Not 
ten feet from his hoofs lay his master on the 
ground face downward. An Indian arrow 
projecting from his back, the feathered end 
pointing toward the sky, told its dreadful 
story. 


CHAPTER XIII 

“that’s just like him!” 

A LDEN PAYNE and Jethro Mix stared 
in silence for several seconds. Then the 
terrified negro gasped in a husky voice : 

“Lets run like hlazes!” 

The appeal roused his master. He glanced 
from the pony and the prostrate rider to the 
opposite bluffs, and at every hiding place of 
an enemy in his field of vision. Since the 
tragedy had taken place within the last few 
minutes, the criminal could not be far off. 

There was the vast, precipitous gorge along 
the side of which wound the broad path that 
had been traversed by hundreds of men and 
animals, and along which the Express Riders 
had galloped at headlong speed times without 
number. There were scores of places among 
the towering rocks and piles of stone that 
would hide a host of miscreants from sight. 
The fatal arrow might have been launched 
from any one of them, and the youth could 
191 


19 ^ 


RACING FOR LIFE 


not guess which. At any rate no dusky head 
showed itself. The weapon that had been 
used gave out no sound and whether there was 
one assassin or a dozen must remain unknown 
to Alden. 

The feeling which succeeded the first horri- 
fying shock was one of profound pity for the 
victim. Young, vigorous, full of bounding 
life and hope, his cheering words lingered yet 
in the ears of the couple, and here he lay on the 
ground his hfe driven out by the arrow 
launched by a demon in wantonness, for Dick 
Lightfoot had never harmed a hair in the head 
of one of his kind. 

Jethro was almost speechless, for he ex- 
pected other deadly missiles to hurtle through 
the air at him and his companion. The 
chances as the negro \dewed them were a hun- 
dred to one that the two would never leave the 
spot alive; at any rate they would not do so 
if they tarried another minute. But he dared 
not go of his own accord and knew better than 
to protest to Alden. 

Some idea of what had taken place must 
have passed through the intelligent brain of the 
Express Rider’s pony. He had stopped sud- 
denly when his master fell from the saddle, 


THAT’S JUST LIKE HIM!” 193 

and one could almost fancy his reproving grief 
when he looked around in quest of the cruel 
slayer. Seeing no one, he walked slowly back 
to the senseless form, and lowering his nose 
began snuffing at it, as if he did not quite un- 
derstand it all. 

Without a word, Alden Payne slipped off 
his horse and stooped over the body. “Dick” 
did not notice him, but kept up his snuffing as 
if begging an answer. Alden reached down 
and grasping the shoulder, carefully turned 
over the still warm body. An Indian arrow 
driven with infernal force and accuracy, had 
done its work. The point had passed clean 
through, piercing the heart in its passage. 
Dick Lightfoot had died instantly. 

“Poor fellow!” murmured Alden; “a light- 
ning stroke could not have brought you down 
more suddenly. In the few minutes we were 
together I learned to like you, and this is the 
end.” 

In the shock of the sorrowful occurrence Al- 
den Payne could not forget the perilous sit- 
uation of himself and companion. It was 
foolhardy to stay where they were, for beyond 
doubt they were exposed to the same danger. 
Alden’s delay was caused by the question 

13 


194 


RACING FOR LIFE 


whether he could do any service in the circum- 
stances. His first thought was of lifting the 
body to the back of his horse, and either riding 
or walking beside it to camp. Then he feared 
that such action would call down an attack on 
him and Jethro and defeat its purpose. 

“I’ll leave the body here till our folks come 
up, when they can give it burial ; or Shagbark 
and several of us will come forward and bring 
it away to-night.” 

The probability of such purpose failing led 
Alden to search the clothing. He took out a 
small gold watch, several letters and a trifling 
amount of money which he carefully placed 
in his own pockets. The sad duty finished he 
straightened and was on the point of remount- 
ing beside his trembling companion, when a 
thought flashed upon him. 

“Jeth, I’m going to take his place!” 

The stare of the African showed he did not 
understand. 

“We’ll bofe take his place if we wait here 
any longer!” he stammered. 

“I’m going to ride his pony to the next sta- 
tion and deliver the mail for him.” 

Even then Jethro was bewildered by the 
words of his companion. 


« THAT’S JUST LIKE HIM ! 


195 


‘'W-what you driving at, Al? Talk Eng- 
lish, won’t you?” 

Knowing that in this case actions were 
clearer than words, Alden spoke gently to 
Dick, rubbed his nose, patted his neck, and 
then placing the toe of his foot in the stirrup 
swung himself into the saddle. The mail 
pouches had not been disturbed, and the new 
rider was ready to. take up the duty of Dick 
Lightfoot where he had laid it down forever. 

“You doan’ mean dat yous gwine to try to 
ride to de next station on dat horse!” exclaimed 
the astonished Jethro. 

“I shall try it, Jeth; you will take Firebug 
to camp and tell Shagbark, JMr. Fleming 
and the rest what I have done.” 

“You can’t mean it, Al! What’s de matter 
wid you; I knowed you war a fool but nebber 
thought you was such a big one as dis.” 

The situation did not permit any offense. 
“You doan’ know de way!” added Jethro des- 
perately. 

“You heard Lightfoot say his pony knows 
every foot of it ; I shall leave that part of the 
business to him.” 

“But — but,” sputtered the African, “what’s 
gwine to come ob 


196 


RACING FOR LIFE 


This after all was the crucial question. 
Jethro was alarmed more for his own safety 
than because of anything else. 

Despite the tense situation, Alden lost pa- 
tience. 

“You have a better chance than I; I’m go- 
ing into danger and you are going out of it; 
off with you without another word!” 

Alden turned the head of Fireburg down 
the trail and slapped his haunch. The animal 
started away at once on a brisk trot, knowing 
what was required of him. Then his master 
handed his rifle to Jethro. He had picked up 
the weapon from the ground near the body, 
but did not take the revolver of the fallen 
man. 

“That gives you two guns; this one is better 
than mine and I’ll use it.” 

Without another word, he jerked the reins 
sharply and spoke to the pony : 

“Now, Dick, show what you can do!” 

Everything was clear to the sagacious ani- 
mal, who sped away like an arrow for the sta- 
tion miles distant. 

“Ob all de disprobous treatment dis am de 
wust I eber had,” growled Jethro, who started 
Jilk down the trail after Firebug, who was 


“ THAT’S JUST LIKE HIM ! ” 


197 


now a number of rods distant. That the 
dusky horseman was in a state of terror need 
not be repeated. He forced his animal to a 
pace that quickly brought him beside the other. 

“Go it, Firebug!’’ he called, and the pony 
changed his trot to a gallop which carried him 
swiftly down the incline, with Jilk at his heels. 
“I ’spose our folks am ’bout sebenteen thou- 
sand miles back somewhere and it’ll take me a 
week to find ’em if I got de chance.” 

It was like running the gauntlet, when the 
endangered one expects a fatal blow at every 
step and is pretty sure to receive it. Jethro 
glanced to the right and left, over his shoulder 
and in advance. 

The incline made the traveling easy. After 
reaching the level, there was no reason why the 
headlong pace should not be kept up for the 
remainder of the distance to the train. 

Amid the fluttering hope and dread, the Af- 
rican nearly pitched from the saddle, when 
several whoops rang out in the stillness. He 
was so terrified he could not tell the direction 
whence they came, but he thought it was from 
the rear. He drove Jilk to his highest speed 
and Firebug increased his pace correspond- 
ingly. 


198 


RACING FOR LIFE 


The next instant the whoops sounded again, 
but they came from the front! 

“Gorrynation 1” gasped Jethro drawing on 
his bridle rein; “dey am on ebery side; de only 
way out ob dis muss is for Jilk to climb up de 
sides ob de rocks.” 

Could he have believed he was not in plain 
view of his enemies, Jethro would have leaped 
from his saddle and hidden himself. He 
thought of doing it as matters stood, but dared 
not. 

The quick glances to the right and left of 
the gorge failed to show him any one of his 
enemies, but he knew they were there. Had 
there been any doubt as to that it vanished the 
next moment when an arrow flitted like a swal- 
low between him and the streaming forelock 
of his pony. 

“I’m a goner!” he wailed, throwing himself 
forward so as to be as flat as possible on the 
back of his animal. 

He reflected that the missile had passed in 
front of him, so that it looked as if he were 
placing himself nearer the path of other sim- 
ilar missiles. But he was going all the time, 
and the next one would possibly go behind, or 
more likely through him. 


THAT’S JUST LIKE HIM!” 


199 


It will be remembered that he had a loaded 
rifle in either hand. Had he carried out his 
first idea and dashed for refuge behind one of 
the nearest boulders, he ought to have been 
able to put up a good fight and stand off the 
redskins until the sounds of firing brought 
Shagbark and his friends to his relief, but 
Jethro lacked courage to try the scheme. 

So long as the authors of the yells did not 
appear in the gorge in front, he had a faint 
hope of being able to get through to camp. 
It must be done, however, by forcing the 
speed, which he proceeded to do. 

Aside from the horror of being struck, was 
the dread that Jilk might be disabled. If that 
calamity should befall, Jethro would then 
skurry to some hiding place and make the best 
defense he could. So long as his pony was 
capable of running, he was not spared. 

Firebug was naturally fleeter than Jilk, and 
having no burden to carry, easily held his 
place some yards in front. He was traveling 
with a speed which caused mane and tail to 
stream out, while the loose stirrups dangled 
and flew about against the ribs of the animal. 

Jethro’s hopes rose with every rod passed. 

“Dem sarpents hain’t got any critters dat 


RACING FOR LIFE 


WO 

can trabel like ourn, and bime by, Jilk, we’ll 
be out ob de woods ef dere ain’t more ob ’em 
waiting down de gorge — ” 

A sharp twinge in the back thrilled him. 

hitr he exclaimed faintly; “dey hab 
sarbed me de same way dat dey sarbed dat Ex- 
press Rider; dey’re after my scalp but I’ll 
stick in de saddle till I reaches Mr. Shagbark, 
ef I doan’ die afore.” 

In the ecstasy of terror he glanced down his 
breast, for he had partly straightened up a 
moment before he felt the pain. He expected 
to see the pointed bit of flint sticking out in 
front, but did not. 

“It didn’t go cl’ar f rough, but it’s jest as 
bad; I can’t lib more dan a few minutes; go 
it, Jilk!” 

Once again the tremulous whoops sounded 
above the clumping of the ponies’ hoofs, but 
they came this time from the rear. Except 
for that sudden twinge in his back, Jethro 
would have felt a renewal of hope. At the 
same time he could not be certain he would 
not run into a score or more of his enemies. 

A half mile was speedily passed and not 
another throbbing yell reached his ears. 
Jethro sat upright in his saddle, and a few 


“ THAT’S JUST LIKE HIM ! ” 


201 


minutes later shifting the two guns to his left 
hand, reached his right around to grasp the 
shaft of the arrow and draw it forth. 

To his amazement he could not feel it. 
He was able to grope with the hand, from 
between his shoulder blades to the saddle. 
Especially the spot where the twinge had been 
felt was examined. He touched naught but 
the smooth back of his coat. 

‘Tt must have drapped out,” he muttered 
with a wild hope; “dat’s mighty qu’ar,” he 
added; ‘‘de pain ain’t dere any more but has 
gone inter de big toe ob my right fut.” 

In his whimsical mood he glanced down at 
the shoe in the stirrup. Nothing was the 
matter there. 

‘T hain’t been hit at all!” he exclaimed with 
a new thrill this time of unalloyed bliss; “it 
must hab been de rheumatics dat shifted to my 
toe.” 

Certain it was that he had not been so much 
as grazed by any of the arrows that the 
prowling redskins had discharged at him. 

Ten minutes later as he swept round 
another turn in the gorge, he saw Shagbark 
riding a little way in front of the train. In- 
asmuch as the emigrants and Jethro were ap- 


202 


RACING FOR LIFE 


preaching each other, the distance had been 
considerably shortened thereby. 

Shagbark the veteran never showed more 
amazement and fear, than when he caught 
sight of the riderless Firebug galloping to- 
ward him with the negro close behind. He 
stopped his horse, threw up his head and 
stared. Before Jethro could check his pony, 
the hunter demanded: 

“What’s the matter? What does it all 
mean; whar’s the younker?” 

“Dead!” was the fearful reply. 

“How did it happen?” 

Abner Fleming and several others caught 
sight of the African and rode hurriedly for- 
ward. 

Jethro had halted his panting animal and 
replied : 

“Ain’t sartin he’s dead, but dere ain’t much 
doubt ob it.” 

“What bus’ness have ye to be here if any- 
thing went wrong with the younker?” thun- 
dered the hunter, with a dangerous glitter in 
his eyes; “why did ye leave him?” 

“He made me come back wid Firebug, Mr. 
Shagbarak,” explained the servant. 

Finally, after a score of questions, Jethro^ 


THAT’S JUST LIKE HIM I” ^03 


made plain what had happened. Every one 
listened with breathless attention. When it 
was understood, Shagbark chuckled: 

“So the younker took the place of the Ex- 
press Rider, eh? Wal, he’ll git through all 
right, but I say that’s jest like him; there’s 
good stuff in that chap.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


AN ALARMING SITUATION 


M eanwhile Alden Payne had en- 
tered upon the most stirring experience 
of his life. 

In a twinkling, as may he said, he was 
transformed from an emigrant plodding his 
way across the continent to a Pony Express 
Rider, whose sole effort was to skim over the 
dangerous ground at the topmost speed to 
which his swift pony could be forced. ‘‘Get 
ahead in spite of everything,” was the motto 
of those daring fellows. 

It was -a sudden impulse that led the youth 
to make this perilous venture, but it is almost 
certain that, had he been given hours in which 
to consider the plan, he would have done pre- 
cisely what he did do. 

It is in the momentous crises of a person’s 
career that he often becomes sensible to trifles 
which would pass unnoticed at other times. 
The moment Ald^n set off with the small rifle 
204 


AN ALARMING SITUATION 


205 


of the stricken rider grasped in his left hand 
and the reins held loosely in his right, he 
noticed several things. He knew he was 
twenty or thirty pounds heavier than Dick 
Lightfoot. The saddle, although of the same 
kind as his own, still felt a little different. 
The stirrup straps were an inch or two shorter 
than those to which he was accustomed, but he 
decided to waste no time in shifting the 
buckles. The rifle was lighter than his 
weapon, for we know those men sacrificed 
everything possible to gain lightness. If an 
anxious correspondent offered a big price to 
the carrier to accept a thin missive after the 
pouch had been made up, he was refused and 
obliged to wait for the next messenger. 

The riders of course used spurs though they 
were not often necessary. The animal knew 
what was expected of him and gave it will- 
ingly. Covered with foam and dust, with his 
sides heaving, he thundered up to the station 
where rest was awaiting him, after which he 
was ready to bound away on the wings of the 
wind again. Often his master passed through 
the most frightful perils without shouting a 
a command to his pony. A pressure of the 
knee, the gentlest pull on the rein, or perhaps 


206 


RACING FOR LIFE 


a soft exclamation was enough : he obeyed with 
unerring instinct. As Dick Lightfoot de- 
clared, the animals came to know the routes 
better than their riders. When Theodore 
Rand covered the 110 miles between Box 
Elder and Julesburg, he always did it by 
night. 

It made no difference whether the sun was 
shining overhead or the stars twinkled faintly 
or not at all. The rain might descend in tor- 
rents, hail, snow and sleet might batter horse 
and rider like fine birdshot, and the tempera- 
ture might drop below zero, or throb with heat, 
still rider and horse who were like one creature 
must plunge on and ever on, so long as muscle 
and nerve could stand the terrific strain.* 


* One of the Express Riders made the run from St. Joe to 
Denver, 625 miles, in two days and twenty-one hours. Within 
five miles of Guittard’s Station, Will Bolton’s horse was dis- 
abled. He abandoned the animal and with the mail pouches 
slung over his shoulder, trotted to the next station, remounted 
and completed his run with only a small loss of time. J. H. 
Keetley, now a prosperous merchant of Salt Lake City, was 
an Express Rider from the opening to the close of the service. 
He once rode 300 miles in twenty-four hours, stopping only 
to change horses. Robert Haslam, remembered through the 
West as “Pony Bob,” is a genial, prosperous citizen of Chi- 
cago, associated in the management of the Congress Hall 
organization. In his younger days he performed many aston- 
ishing feats as an Express Rider. He was twice wounded by 


AN ALARMING SITUATION 


207 


Now Alden Payne would not have had a 
tithe of the sense with which we have credited 
him all along, if he had forgotten for one 
moment the peril which he faced from the 
moment he came up with the inanimate form of 
Dick Lightfoot. The turning back of Jethro 
Mix, and the shift from one saddle to the other 


Indians, made the speediest 190 miles on record, and for six 
months covered daily the run between Reno, Nevada, and 
Virginia City, a distance of twenty-three miles, well within 
an hour. He used fifteen horses on each run. How those 
old timers could ride and if necessary fight! I add the fol- 
lowing extract from an interesting letter received by me from 
Mr. Haslam: 


“Chicago, Dec. 28, 1908. 

“ Very few of the old Pony Express Riders ever carried a 
rifle of any description from start to finish. I once pur- 
chased a Spencer from a deserter from Fort Bridger, paying 
him $20. This was in 1861. The weapon was a breech-loader 
with seven shots. I always carried a Colt’s revolver with two 
cylinders, and often had to use both of them. I made sure 
that the pistol was fully loaded when I started. Caps were 
employed, and the revolver was loaded by means of a ramrod 
attached to it. After the Spencer came the Sharp, seven- 
shooter, repeating breech-loader with cartridges. My Spencer 
weighed about seven and a half pounds, but I never used it 
on the Express. When I was messenger from Salt Lake to 
Denver in the service of Wells Fargo & Co. I carried a short 
double-barreled shotgun with buckshot and later a Win- 
chester 16-shooter. When in the government service in Porto 
Rico and the Philippines, all the weapon I carried was a 
Colt’s improved double action revolver.” 


208 


RACING FOR LIFE 


had taken only two or three minutes. In the 
mean time, if there was any danger of 
thoughtlessness, it was removed by the sight 
of that feathered shaft protruding from the 
back of the poor fellow who lay on the flinty 
earth. 

The reasonable supposition was that the 
redskin who had discharged the missile was in 
a position to drive others with equal deadliness 
and that he would do so. In all probability 
there were more than one of them. Why the 
African youth was permitted to ride away un- 
molested, and Alden Payne to climb into the 
saddle without harm would be hard to explain, 
but such was the fact. 

Alden kept looking across the gorge and at 
all the points from which a missile might come. 
He saw nothing which was not strange, but 
before he could give the word to Dick an ar- 
row whizzed in front of his face so close that 
he blinked. Rather curiously the emotion 
roused by this occurrence was that of flaming 
rage. We know Alden had a quick temper. 
Had it been otherwise, he would not have 
dared to do what he did the next minute. 

When he glanced across the ravine, he saw 
his man, or rather two men. The warriors had 








r 

4 



¥v:iv*v?^n'^ ■ ':am^-mm^ 

m 

4,n 


rr >- 


X. 




VV- 



:vv 










^ » ^1 


■^' " v'.V 

■ . • ■Wt*'* *::. ':\W, .>V. •'••‘A,' 


•X ' ••4-^*'.' '»'Vf*l ' 





An Indian Arrow Told its Dreadful Story. 


AN ALARMING SITUATION S09 


risen from behind an immense rock, the head 
and shoulders of one showing while the other 
stood fully revealed in the open. It looked 
as if he despised the youth and was challeng- 
ing him to do his worst. 

That one quick glance showed Alden that 
the redskin thus exposed was fitting another 
arrow to the string of his bow. His com- 
panion seemed to be acting the part of spec- 
tator. 

“Two can play at that game!” muttered 
Alden, bringing the rifle of Dick Light foot to 
his shoulder and sighting at the miscreant. 
He had noticed the straggling black hair 
of his foe, which dangled about his shoulders, 
his naked chest and deerskin shirt. He was 
of squat form, sturdy and enduring of frame, 
and a foe not to be despised by anyone. 

Thus it came about that he and Alden Payne 
were aiming at each other at the same moment. 
That which followed was unprecedented in its 
way. The youth' pulled trigger an instant 
before the other let fly. Had Alden possessed 
his own gun, he would have brought down the 
redskin, for the distance was not great, and we 
remember he was a fine marksman, but the 
new weapon did not feel precisely like the 
u 


no 


RACING FOR LIFE 


one to which he was accustomed. The two 
had not become fitted to each other. 

As it was, the bullet struck the forearm of 
the Indian and inflicted a sharp wound. It 
was the arm which was grasping the middle 
of the bow, and the hurt caused an involuntary 
twitch that spoiled the aim of the archer. 
The arrow, instead of speeding straight for 
the heart of the youth, whizzed high in air, 
circled grotesquely over and struck a rock 
fifty feet away from him. It was a lucky 
escape, and Alden lost not a second in taking 
advantage of it. 

Throwing his head forward on the neck of 
his pony, he yanked the reins and called; 

‘‘Go it, old fellow!” 

The creature understood. He leaped 
twenty feet, as if he had been hurled from a 
springboard and away he sped. 

It is more than probable that the second In- 
dian launched an arrow after the skurrying 
horseman, though Alden Payne had no means 
of knowing. A grim fancy came to the youth 
that if his enemy had done so, the pony out- 
ran the missile. 

A brief dash carried Alden beyond sight of 
his enemies, though he was likely to encounter 


AN ALARMING SITUATION 


211 


others. He partly straightened up in his 
saddle and looked to the right and left. With 
relief unspeakable, he suddenly debouched 
from the broad gorge he had been following, 
into a wide plateau. On the right, it wound 
to the foothills a long distance away and 
stretched as far as the vision could reach to 
the left. Some three or four miles straight 
ahead, the comparatively level plain swept un- 
til it entered the hills again, beyond which 
could be seen the snowy peaks of a lofty 
mountain range. 

The plateau must not be looked upon as a 
smooth plain, for here and there it took a 
rolling form with arroyas and occasionally 
boulders that had to be skirted, but, compared 
with most of the country to the rear, it was an 
ideal course for a horse and his rider. 

And how the pony did go! With a snort he 
flirted his head, as if he would shake off every- 
thing that held him hack as easily as he blew 
aside the fleck of foam that ahghted like a 
snowflake on the knee of his rider. With 
nose outstretched, mane and tail flying, and 
the play of each muscle like the working of a 
splendid machine, he flung the miles to the 
rear with a rapidity that was almost incredible. 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Almost in the same instant that the pony’s 
hoofs hit the plateau, the graceful limbs struck 
an astounding speed. Alden had no means 
of knowing the rate attained, hut it must have 
been twenty-five miles an hour. It seemed 
more than bone and muscle could hold, and 
yet such w^as the animal’s perfection of form 
that he showed no apparent increase of effort. 
The still air was fanned into a gale which cut 
the face of the rider and made him contract 
his eyelashes and catch his breath. He did 
not try to restrain the peerless steed, for the 
animal, not Alden, was now the master. 

‘T can understand what poor Dick Light- 
foot meant when he said he enjoyed this life 
more than anything else in the world,” thought 
Alden as his blood danced. “What delight 
this would be if the pony could keep it up for 
hours.” 

And he would have done it had the ground 
continued favorable. It was through such 
seizure of chances that the wonderful system 
of the Pony Express Riders amazed the 
country throughout the months the service 
lasted, until the telegraph and afterward the 
railway put it out of business. 

Alden kept up the policy of leaving every- 


AN ALARMING SITUATION ^13 


thing to the pony. The reins dangled loose 
upon the moist satin neck, and the rider did 
not speak. Looking down at the stony 
ground he now and then caught glimpses of 
hoof prints, showing that others had traveled 
the way before him. Generally the path as 
it might be called was so wide that only now 
and then did the ponies travel in one another’s 
footsteps. 

Alden reflected that the distance from his 
starting point to the next station westward 
was eight miles or so. He calculated that it 
would be covered in the course of the next half 
hom% always provided no “obstacle” was en- 
countered. 

“No matter how fast we go, this mail must 
be late ; there is no making up the time already 
lost.” 

Obeying that instinct which often touches 
reason in the horse, Dick slackened his speed 
of his own accord, as he approached the boun- 
dary of the plateau where the ground not only 
became rougher but inclined upward at a 
rather stiff grade. Still his gait was a run, 
and swifter than is often seen. So long as he 
could maintain it he would do so. 

The long summer afternoon was drawing 


^14 RACING FOR LIFE 

to a close, but Alden ought to reach the station 
well before sunset. As he figured it he would 
change horses there, cover another run of 
about a dozen miles, change again and com- 
plete his task at a point something over thirty 
miles from where Dick Lightfoot had begun 
it. 

This was on the supposition that the men 
connected with the service would permit the 
youth to finish the task he had voluntarily 
taken upon himself. It would seem that they 
would forbid the innovation, when all the cir- 
cumstances are remembered, but that 
remained to be seen. Sufficient unto the hour 
was the work before him. 

With the slackening of pace, Alden scanned 
the ground in front. The course did not lead 
between cliffs and high precipices, as was the 
case where he began his journey, but it was as 
if the same plateau had taken an upward slope 
and gained many more boulders and masses of 
rock in doing so. A horse might keep 
straight on or swerve to the right or left. 
There seemed to be any number of routes. 

For the first time the youth interfered with 
the pace of his animal. Certain that he would 
exhaust himself by running up the slope, 


AN ALARMING SITUATION 215 


Alden pulled gently on the rein. The pony 
flirted his head impatiently and refused to put 
on the brakes. 

“Your nerve will kill you/’ said the rider, 
resigning the attempt for the moment. 

The incline grew steeper. Alden pulled 
harder and the pony dropped to a walk, but 
plainly he did not like it. 

“No use, Dick; I shan’t let you kill yourself ; 
you forget that I’m heavier than your late 
master and it is cruelty to allow you to gallop 
up hill.” 

The rocks became so plentiful that the rider 
could not see far ahead or on either hand. He 
reflected that the neighborhood must be a 
tempting one to redskins or road agents, for 
the latter class of criminals was one of the 
pests of overland travel in the early days. 

Less than half a mile to the left and in ad- 
vance, rose a range or spur to the height of 
several hundred feet. It swept round to the 
northward, so that if the rider kept straight 
on, he must cross it, or make a long detour to 
the northeast. 

With Dick on a walk, Alden scanned each 
point of the compass, not forgetting the in- 
struction of Shagbark always to look to the 


S16 


RACING FOR LIFE 


rear, for in that part of the world, danger 
comes from one direction as often as from the 
other. 

While serutinizing the ridge which showed 
a considerable growth of dwarfed pine, Alden 
was startled to observe a thin column of smoke 
issuing from a point on the crest. The bluish 
vapor climbed straight up into the clear sky, 
where it slowly dissolved. Its course showed 
that not the slightest breeze was blowing. 

“It looks like an Indian signal,” he thought ; 
“I wonder if it has anything to do with me/" 

He brought his binocular to the front and 
raised it to his eyes. Little resulted from the 
action. The fire which caused the vapor was 
burning behind a rock, beyond reach of the 
glass. He could not catch the faintest sight 
of it. 

The natural supposition was that if this 
finger of smoke was a signal from one party 
of red men to another, something would show 
in the nature of a reply. He swept every 
point of the horizon with the instrument, but 
that which he dreaded to see he did not dis- 
cover. Still this fact might signify nothing. 

Alden could not rid himself of the fear that 
the signal referred to him. Its precise mean- 


AN ALARMING SITUATION 


217 


ing was beyond guessing. Shagbark might 
have solved the puzzle, but his young friend 
could not. 

“There may be a party of Indians camping 
on my trail and this is to let them know where 
they will find me. Perhaps it tells them they 
needn’t bother, for those in front have fixed 
things so as to gather me in; or possibly — but 
what’s the use?” he demanded impatiently, re- 
alizing that it was worse than useless to launch 
out upon such a sea of speculation. 

The pony showed a wish to resume his 
gallop, even though the incline continued, but 
his rider would not permit. 

“I may be wrong,” he reflected, “but I’m 
too merciful — ” 

To his amazement, Dick at that moment 
suddenly came to a full stop. Not only that, 
but he threw up his head, thrust his ears for- 
ward and snorted. He had made some 
alarming discovery. What could it be? 

The startled Alden glanced ahead. The 
rocks and boulders still cut off his view, and 
he could not see clearly for a hundred yards 
in any direction. 

The signs of alarm on the part of the pony 
increased. He snorted louder and began 


RACING FOR LIFE 


‘^218 

backing, showing an inclination to whirl about 
and dash off. Alden patted his neck and 
spoke soothingly, but could not quiet him. 

“He knows a good deal more than I do,’’ 
said the youth to himself. 

Then, yielding to an impulse natural in the 
circumstances, Alden deftly slipped from the 
saddle and ran a few paces to the nearest rock 
behind which he crouched. The pony thus re- 
lieved of his burden, swung around as if on 
a pivot and dashed toward the plateau. 

“He scented a party of Indians; they will 
be here in a minute or two. Heavens! how 
came I to overlook it?” 

The exclamation was caused by the dis- 
covery that after firing at the dusky archer 
in the ravine, he had neglected to reload his 
rifie, a piece of forgetfulness for which Shag- 
bark never would have forgiven him. 

Alden drew a bullet from his pouch with 
which to repair the blunder, and then when 
he tried to force it down the muzzle, he made 
a terrifying discovery. He had failed to take 
the pouch from the body of Dick Lightfoot. 
His own bullets were too large for the bore of 
the smaller weapon, which was of no more use 
to him than a stick of wood! 


CHAPTER XV 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION 

N O wonder Alden Payne was rattled. 

Who wouldn’t be thrown into a panic by 
the discovery of his helplessness in so danger- 
ous a situation? 

Moreover, Dick Light foot’s revolver was 
with his body. Still the youth had his own 
small weapon which he carried at his hip, where 
he could draw it the instant needed. Besides 
this he had his hunting knife, which would be 
of little help in the circumstances. He might 
do something in the way of defense with his 
pistol, but of what avail against a party of 
Indians armed with rifles, or possibly bows 
and arrows? All they would have to do would 
be to remain beyond his range and “snipe” 
him at their leisure. 

The only desperate hope which flashed upon 
him was that the red men had not seen him 
leap from the saddle and dash for the boulder. 
But even in that case, they could not fail to 
S19 


220 


RACING FOR LIFE 


notice that the pony was riderless and they 
would understand why. 

He tried to force the bullet down the barrel 
of the gun. In vain; then he savagely strove 
to chew it down to the right size. If he suc- 
ceeded with one missile before he could com- 
press a second into shape the crisis would be 
upon him. 

He had just inserted the metal between his 
molars in the despairing effort to reduce the 
size of the same, when his hair almost lifted 
the hat from his head. From the direction of 
the trail came a guttural whoofing sound, its 
repetition showing that the cause was drawing 
nearer. 

Before he could guess what the curious noise 
meant his eyes told him the truth. An 
enormous bear, dark in color, came swinging 
forward from the direction of the ridge. 
His waddling, lumbering gait, and his vast 
bulk left no doubt of his identity. In any 
circumstances he would have been a most 
formidable foe to meet. 

“It’s a grizzly!” whispered Alden, shrink- 
ing behind the boulder so low that only 
by taking off his hat was he barely able to peer 
over. 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION 221 


In one sense the discovery was a relief, for 
it explained the panic of the pony. Better 
a dozen grizzly bears than half as many 
Indians. 

Alden’s belief was that the monstrous an- 
imal would keep on with his ponderous gait 
in the grotesque attempt to overtake the fleet 
footed horse which was safe beyond his reach; 
but to the consternation of the watcher the 
brute halted at the very spot where the fugitive 
had landed when he dropped from the saddle. 
He snuffed the ground as if he suspected the 
truth. 

“By gracious!” gasped Alden, who now 
lowered his head and peeped round the side of 
the boulder, “he has scented me.” 

It did have that look and dropping his rifle, 
he drew his revolver. 

“I wonder if he will mind a little thing like 
this. Shagbark said it took several rifle 
bullets to slay a grizzly. If that’s so, he’ll 
laugh at my weapon, but he’ll have to move 
lively if he beats me dodging round this rock.” 

The scent of the ursus species is by no means 
as fine as that of many other animals, but this 
one unquestionably was on the track of some- 
thing and it looked very much as if that some- 


RACING FOR LIFE 


22 ^ 

thing was an American youngster crouching 
behind a boulder a few rods off and scared al- 
most out of his wits. 

The bear suddenly raised his head and dip- 
ped his snout forward in several directions one 
after the other, snuffing as if he knew some- 
thing was in the wind. Back and forth the 
huge front swayed until in a minute or two it 
remained pointed directly at the boulder! It 
suggested an immense canine that had flushed 
its game. 

“No use; he’s after me!” decided Alden, 
who now glanced about in quest of a tree which 
he might climb. Afraid even to peer around 
the edge of his hiding place, lest he should be- 
tray himself, he drew back, grasped his 
revolver and held his breath as he listened with 
all the intentness at his command. 

For a few seconds he did not hear the slight- 
est sound. His heart fluttered with renewed 
hope. The beast must be moving off. Prob- 
ably he had caught sight of the pony and was 
making after him. 

“He can’t know I’m here; all I have to do 
is to wait.” 

Uneasy over the stillness, Alden slowly 
straightened up until he could once more look 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION ^23 


over the top of the boulder. Could he believe 
his eyes? The bear was not ten paces distant 
and swinging straight toward him! The fact 
that just then he emitted another of his whifF- 
ing grunts made it appear that he had seen the 
youngster and was congratulating himself 
upon the certainty of a dainty titbit for 
supper. 

Alden had to decide quickly, for in another 
minute the gigantic brute would be upon him. 
His decision was to wait until only the breadth 
of the boulder separated them and then blaze 
away with all the chambers of his pistol in in- 
stant succession. He would aim at the eyes 
and head, and would not miss with a single 
bullet. That would check him for a few mo- 
ments if the discharge did not bowl him over. 
The interval thus gained would be improved 
by the young man to the utmost. He would 
make a lightning-like change of base in the 
hope of securing a better refuge. 

It was a splendid pose that the youth took 
in the same minute. The rifle lay on the 
ground, and his right arm rested on the sur- 
face of the rock which was as high as his shoul- 
ders. The main weight of his body was sup- 
ported on his right foot which was advanced 


RACING FOR LIFE 


like a runner about to start on a race. The 
left arm hung to his hip while the other lay 
on the top of the rock, and was extended full 
length, the hand closed around the butt of a 
revolver vdiich was leveled at the mountainous 
brute, lumbering heavily forward with his 
head swinging from side to side. His piggish 
eyes were fixed upon the brave lad who saw 
the horrid front, the great red jaws parted, 
the slobbering tongue lolling out and the 
teeth showing. He had discovered his prey 
and was going for it with unshakable resolu- 
tion. 

The next instant it was hang^ hang — five 
times in succession, and the metal cones buried 
themselves in that bulk as if it were a colossal 
cushion. That the missiles did harm was be- 
yond question, but they did not stop the ad- 
vance of the bear. The wounds would likely 
prove mortal sooner or later, but not soon 
enough to save Alden Payne. 

He was on the point of wheeling and dash- 
ing off, with no clear idea of the direction to 
take, when another report rang out. It was 
that of a rifle, whose bullet went straight to 
the seat of life. With a snarling growl, the 
bear reared on his hind legs and clawed at the 



He had Discovered His Prey, 



t 


« 




. ) 

» 



> 
















I 


' • • 


•- 


% 





« 


I 


I 



• V 


4 





I 


* 


I 


H 



s 


1 

« 

I 

% 

I 

1 

» 

f 


? 




■ 


i • 

V 


» 

« 

I 

I 

ft 

ft 

♦ 




p 


\ 


ft 


■ la 





1 


A 



> 


« 


1 




♦ r 


I 


t 



ft 


9 




♦ft 

4 


7 


ft 




i 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION ^5 


wounds made by the revolver bullets, as if he 
thought they were splinters which he tried to 
pluck out. 

It was the rifle ball that settled the busi- 
ness. He sagged over on his side, struck and 
kicked for a few seconds and then the prodi- 
gious carcass lay still, for he was as dead as 
Julius Caesar. j 

From the same direction that the bear^had 
come, advanced a Pony Express Rider, with 
smoking rifle in hand. He had arrived in the 
nick of time and could not have asked a fairer 
target than that presented by the brute. The 
man, however, did not know whom he had 
saved, until Alden Payne came from behind 
the boulder and confronted him. Then he 
reined up and looked wonderingly at the 
youth. 

“Who the mischief are you?” he asked, as 
Alden appeared. 

“A young fellow in need of the help you 
gave.” 

“How comes it you’re on foot and in this 
fix?” 

Alden hastily explained. 

“So Dick Lightfoot’s dead, eh? Too bad; 

where did you leave him?” 

15 


SS6 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Two or three miles back; he was shot from 
his pony by an Indian arrow.” 

“Where’s his pony?” 

“He made off when I sprang from the sad- 
dle and hid here.” 

“Umph! never run from a bear like that.” 

“I never met a grizzly before.” 

“And you didn’t meet one this time: only 
an ordinary black bear. Why didn’t you use 
your rifle?” asked the rider, with a glance at 
the weapon on the ground. 

“My bullets don’t fit.” 

The horseman scrutinized the gun. 

“Why it’s Dick’s; you didn’t think to take 
his bullets; I can let you have a few; you may 
need ’em before you reach the station.” 

He deftly extracted a half dozen which he 
passed to the grateful Alden. 

“Don’t lose any time in reloading, which 
reminds me.” 

And he proceeded to recharge his own 
weapon. 

During this brief chat, it struck Alden that 
the man resembled in looks and voice the rider 
who lay on the ground several miles away. 
The alert manner and crisp way of speaking 
were the same. 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION m 


“You are about the weight of Lightfoot 
and have much his appearance.’’ 

“Umph! I ought to; I’m his brother.” 

He snatched out a small watch and glanced 
at it. 

“I’ll be hanged! I’ve lost six minutes; I 
must be off ; bye-bye.” 

He touched the flanks of his pony with his 
spurs, and the animal bounded away at full 
speed. Almost immediately he disappeared. 

To put it mildly, Alden Payne was sur- 
prised. Here was a man who received the 
news of his brother’s death without a sign of 
emotion, and yet doubtless he felt it deeply. 
But it was all a part of the game. The living 
brother might pass over the Great Divide in 
a brief while and join the other. Such was 
the life of the Pony Express Rider. 

Alden would have liked to ask the man 
more questions, had time permitted. He 
would have turned over the possessions taken 
from the fallen man, had he thought of it. 
He wished to ask him about that signal smoke 
which still stained the sky in front and the 
rider could have given him valuable sugges- 
tions. 

It was too late now. The opportunity was 


228 


RACING FOR LIFE 


gone and the youth must think for himself. 
Six or eight miles remained to be traversed 
through a dangerous country and he was on 
foot. The pony had fled and he doubted 
whether he could be recovered. 

“He has the mail with him and may take it 
into his head to go to the station without me,” 
was the thought of Alden, as he turned back 
over the trail. The hoof prints left by the ani- 
mal showed clearly in the ground and it was 
easy to follow them. 

A little way and he came to where the open 
space broadened. His vision widened and the 
first survey showed him Dick quietly cropping 
the grass, as if nothing unusual had happened 
to him. His side was toward Alden, who 
whistled. 

The pony lifted his head, with the blades of 
grass dripping from his jaws, and looked ques- 
tioningly at the youth, who whistled again and 
walked in his direction. 

It would be interesting could we know what 
whims passed through the brain of the animal 
which was one of the most intelligent of his 
species. The Express Riders used so many 
horses and were forced by circumstances to 
shift so often from one to the other, that not 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION 229 


often was any special affection formed be- 
tween the human and brute. In other in- 
stances, the fondness was deep and the two 
stuck to each other whenever and wherever it 
was possible to do so. 

Dick in his own way must have mourned 
the loss of his master when he tumbled from 
the saddle, but he accepted the substitute in 
the minute that he appeared, and yielded the 
same obedience to one as to the other. Brief 
as had been the pony’s service, he like his com- 
panions, had imbibed the fact that his one duty 
in life was to carry the mail pouches with the 
highest speed at his command, and that such 
service was to be performed under the guid- 
ance of the man who sat on his back. 

When Dick, therefore, heard the whistle and 
recognized the youth, he paused only long 
enough to make sure there was no mistake, and 
then with a neigh of pleasure, he trotted to- 
ward him. As the two met, Alden patted the 
animal’s nose and spoke affectionately: 

“Good Dick! you’re worth your weight in 
gold; I should be in a bad fix without you.” 

He sprang into the saddle. He had hardly 
settled in his seat when the pony broke into a 
trot, which quickly rose to a gallop, though it 


230 


RACING FOR LIFE 


was not a dead run. That would come very 
soon. 

The observant Alden noted one fact; the 
horse did not take the course which he was 
following when alarmed by the approach of 
the black bear. He veered well to the le‘ft, 
thus leaving the carcass out of sight in the 
other direction. His kind dread a dead bear 
almost as much as a live one. 

The action of Dick confomed what his new 
master had suspected from the fii’st: the route 
to the station was not over a single, narrow 
trail to which the riders confined themselves, 
but covered an area that gave wide latitude. 
That he took the path which was taken by the 
man who saved him from the bear was one of 
those providential occurrences that are more 
common in this life than most people be- 
lieve. 

The emigrant trains were disposed to keep 
to certain paths, where the face of the country 
compelled a closing in, but in other sections 
the respective courses were separated by miles, 
and, as has been shown the parties plodding 
across the plains, even though their routes 
were parallel, were often so far apart that for 
days they saw nothing of one another. Even 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION 231 


the twinkle of their camp fires were too far 
over the ‘‘convex world,” to be visible. 

Alden Payne could not free himself from 
the belief that it was safer to hold Dick down 
to a moderate pace than to give him free rein. 
The mail was already hopelessly behind time, 
— a fact which did not concern him — though 
he was determined to dehver it at the station 
if it were possible for him to do so. This 
could be done before dark with the pony on 
a trot or walk. 

The feeling of the young Express Rider was 
natural. When drawing near a point where 
danger is suspected, we prefer to do so at the 
most guarded pace. With all of Dick’s sa- 
gacity he was more likely to go wrong when 
on a run than when on a walk. 

The animal must have felt much as did the 
trained dog, who, having pointed a bird, was 
picked up by his new and sympathetic master 
and carried off the field, under the belief that 
he had been suddenly taken with cramps. 
Dick gathered his hoofs several times and 
broke into an impatient gallop, only to be 
dra^vn down again to a trot which finally 
dropped to a rapid walk. He gave up the 
dispute in disgust and by his action said: 


2S2 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“All right ; if you think you know more than 
I do, you may run things.” 

It did not add to Alden’s serenity of mind 
to notice that the course was gradually shift- 
ing to the left, and finally led directly toward 
the brush of smoke which still stained the blue 
tinted sky. 

All manner of thoughts crowded upon him. 
The one hopeful truth was that the living 
Lightfoot had come over the route unharmed 
within the last hour. It would seem that Al- 
den ought to be as fortunate as he. Ah! if he 
had only had time to question the rider who 
might have passed through a brush with the 
redskins ! 

Another fact gave basis for vague hope: 
a scrutiny of the whole horizon showed no an- 
swering signal. When Indians resort to such 
telegraphy, as they often do on the plains and 
among the mountains, there are calls and re- 
plies. It is on record that on one occasion the 
news of the signing of an important treaty at 
Washington affecting the Sioux was known to 
that tribe before the telegraphic messages 
could reach the army officers at the reserva- 
tion. It was carried westward by Indian te- 
legraphy which none of us fully understands. 


NOW FOR THE MAIL STATION 2SS 


except that it seems to be through signal fii*es 
from elevated positions. But in that case 
there must have been smoke or blaze visible 
at different points, as we know was really the 
case. 

But Alden Payne saw only the shadowy 
wisp of vapor in front of him, and must wait 
to learn its full meaning. That knowledge 
could not be long in coming. 


CHAPTER XVI 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 

A LDEX was convinced from a study of 
the signal smoke that it was gradually 
fading, as if the fire which caused it was not 
replenished. What this signified, as well as 
the meaning of the display itself, was beyond 
him. 

When the interval between him and the dan- 
ger point had dwindled to an eighth of a mile, 
Dick did an almost incredible thing. Until 
then he had shown no sign of seeing the warn- 
ing. Suddenly he stopped, raised his head, 
thrust his ears forward and looked steadily at 
the thin column of vapor for several minutes. 
The reins lay on his neck and the rider did not 
touch them. 

The animal wheeled abruptly to the right 
and broke into a gallop. His action showed 
that he read the signal smoke aright. Indians 
were there and he must avoid them. 

‘T shall not interfere again with you,” said 
2S4! 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


^35 


Alden admiringly; know a hundred 

times more than I do of these matters.” 

None the less, our young friend was uneasy. 
With all the pony’s sagacity, it would not have 
been strange if he was outwitted. The dusky 
enemies must have believed it was an experi- 
enced Express Rider who was coming from 
the east, and it would seem likely to them that 
he would direct his pony as the animal was 
now directing himself. If so, the precaution 
could hardly be of avail. 

The ground rapidly changed in character. 
Before Alden looked for it the incline in- 
creased, and he was riding among boulders, 
rocks and dwarfed pines. He felt a coolness 
too in the air, though the ridge did not rise 
anywhere near to the snow line. Looking 
down at the ground he saw no signs of others 
having passed the way before him. He was 
the pioneer in that dismal solitude. 

He was glad when the pony of his own ac- 
cord dropped from the gallop to his rapid, 
graceful walk. It was impossible for him to 
progress in a straight line, and he was forever 
turning to the right or left, rarely following 
a direct course for more than a few rods. 

Alden could not help smiling when it looked 


236 


RACING FOR LIFE 


for a moment as if Dick had suddenly reached 
the end of his rope. He came opposite a mass 
of rocks, amid which the twisted pines pushed 
out in all directions, though ever striving to 
reach the vertical with their tops pointed to- 
ward the zenith. To the right and left, the 
flinty boundary extended beyond sight. 

Without hesitation Dick turned to the left 
and walked briskly for a dozen rods. The bar- 
rier still interposed. He stopped, wheeled 
about and retraced his steps. He was search- 
ing for an opening or small pass, and was not 
satisfied to approach any closer to the Indian 
signal. 

Within less than the distance named, to the 
right of his first turn, he found that for which 
he was looking. A gap showed and he entered 
it as if it were a stable door that had been 
opened for him. 

“What’s the use of placing a rider on your 
back, Dick?” asked the delighted Alden. 
“Better to give you the mail pouch and tell 
you to deliver it at the next station. But then 
mighty few ponies know as much as you.” 

How far this path led remained to be seen. 
But it had not been followed far when Alden 
met an experience that was as unique as unex- 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


237 


pected. The appearance of the gorge sug- 
gested that a torrent of water poured through 
it, when the snows melted or the floods de- 
scended. Its width varied from fifty feet to 
two or three times that extent, and the irregu- 
lar walls rose on each side almost as many feet. 
If the course lasted, it could not be more fa- 
vorable. 

The bottom of this peculiar ravine was 
broken at intervals by stones, and then only 
pebbles showed. It would have been easy for 
Dick to dash through on the gallop which 
seemed to be his natural gait, for it was com- 
paratively level, but he chose of his own accord 
to walk. He was traveling round instead of 
crossing lots, as he had been accustomed to do, 
and the incident promised to prove another il- 
lustration of the proverb. 

And then came the surprise. Dick had 
turned one of the many corners, his head dip- 
ping with each vigorous step, when he flung 
up his nose and snorted. The alert Alden in 
the same instant saw an Indian warrior com- 
ing toward him. 

The redskin was a duplicate of the one who 
had launched an arrow at the youth several 
miles back. He had the same squat, sturdy 


S38 


RACING FOR LIFE 


figure, the coarse black hair dangling about 
his bare shoulders, and growing low upon his 
forehead, the naked chest, the frowsy hunting 
shirt of deerskin, with leggings and dilapi- 
dated moccasins. He carried a knife in the 
girdle about his waist, and his right hand 
grasped a heavy bow as long as himself. Be- 
hind his left shoulder the feathered tips of a 
number of arrows showed where he carried his 
quiver. 

Neither the countenance nor chest displayed 
any of the paint of which the American In- 
dians are fond. It may be doubted whether 
the vario-colored daubs would have added to 
the hideousness of that face, which was broad 
with protuberant cheek bones, an immense 
mouth, low forehead and piercing black eyes. 

Never was a meeting between two persons 
more unexpected by both. The Indian emit- 
ted a startled ^'hoohr and stopped short, as if 
transfixed. As late as the days to which I am 
referring hundreds of the western red men 
used the bow and arrow instead of the rifle. 
This was generally due to the difficulty of ob- 
taining the modern weapon, but in many in- 
stances it was choice on their part. It may 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


239 


be questioned whether in the majority of cases, 
one was not as effective as the other. 

The particular red man in whom we are now 
interested had a formidable bow at command, 
and no doubt was an expert in its use, but be- 
fore discharging an arrow, he must snatch it 
from behind his shoulder, fit it to the string 
and aim. Ere he could do all this the white 
youth could bore him through a dozen times 
had he possessed that number of guns. He 
had one which in the circumstances was as good 
as the larger number. 

Dick at sight of the redskin had also 
stopped. Thus he and the savage faced each 
other as if the two were carved in stone. Al- 
den was quickwitted enough to bring his rifie 
to his shoulder and aim between the ears of his 
pony. There was no mistake about it : he had 
“the drop” on the other fellow. 

And that other fellow knew it. He had 
been trained never to give or ask quarter, and 
he did not ask for it now. Instead, he whirled 
about and dashed off in a wild headlong flight. 
There was something grotesquely comical in 
his performance, for instead of running in a 
straight line, he leaped from side to side. 


240 


RACING FOR LIFE 


stooped, dodged, and then straightened up for 
a few seconds, during which his speed was 
amazing. He did not utter a sound, but no 
miserable wretch ever strove more desperately 
to escape the doom which he expected with ev- 
ery breath he drew. 

Alden read the meaning of the odd actions. 
It was intended to distract his aim. Few In- 
dians are fools enough to resort to the trick, 
but the Digger tribe sometimes do so. 

When the warrior made off, Dick with a 
faint snort did the same. He was in pursuit, 
and since no man ever hved who could outrun 
a good horse, little chance was left for the fu- 
gitive. 

Alden could have brought him down within 
the same moment that he stopped. Most men 
in his situation would have done so, but the 
whole thing was abhorrent to the youth. Only 
in self-defense would he shoot a human being, 
as he had proved weeks before. 

“I don’t want your life; if you will get out 
of my path I won’t hurt you,” was the thought 
of Alden, who lowered his gun, but held it 
ready to use on the instant it might become 
necessary. He feared that because the shot 
was delayed, the Indian would turn and try to 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


^41 

use his bow. In that event, the youth would 
fire to kill. 

He held himself ready to anticipate hostile 
action. He was so close to the fleeing warrior 
and the air was so clear, that every trifle about 
the fugitive was noticed. He observed that 
the sole of his right moccasin was partly gone 
and flapped as he ran. Most of the ragged 
fringe at the bottom of his shirt had been torn 
off, but a piece kept fluttering about and hit- 
ting against his hip. The red men of the West 
generally wore different clothing from the 
one described, but the fugitive suggested a de- 
scent from those of his race who lived east of 
the Alleghanies. 

Alden noted the play of the muscles between 
the shoulders, where they were not hidden by 
the bouncing quiver. The American Indian 
as a rule is deficient in muscular development, 
but this one showed several moderate ridges 
that doubled and shifted in response to the 
rhythmic swinging of his arms. Each was 
bent at the elbow with the hand close to the 
chest, like a professional runner, but the right 
hand was empty, while the fingers of the left 
were closed about the huge bow which he was 
obliged to hold diagonally before him, to pre- 
16 


RACING FOR LIFE 


24 ^ 

vent its interference with his running. The 
tousled head was pushed forward, and at in- 
tervals the redskin looked back. The glare of 
his black eyes through the meshes of flying hair 
suggested an owl peering from behind a 
thicket. 

Those backward glances were only for an 
instant but were continually repeated. The 
swarthy face showed the terror of the fugitive, 
who must have wondered why the fatal shot 
was delayed. Perhaps he thought his pursuer 
meant to make him prisoner — a fate dreaded 
as much as death itself. 

The Indian ceased his side leaps and duck- 
ing, and gave the last ounce of his strength to 
flight. He was running extraordinarily fast, 
but you do not need to be told that he steadily 
lost ground before the rushing pony. It was 
impossible for the man to get away by means 
of direct flight. 

Meanwhile, queer thoughts must have both- 
ered Dick. He had brought his new master 
within easy striking distance of his enemy and 
he did nothing. Why did he not shoot and 
close the incident? Why did he wait till the 
brief space was lessened still more? 

The watchful Alden suddenly saw the right 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


243 


hand of the fugitive dart over to the left shoul- 
der, where the fingers fiddled for a moment. 
Then they snapped out an arrow from the 
quiver and the missile vanished, as it was 
brought round in front of his chest. Since 
the white man held his fire, the red one meant 
to use his own weapon. 

At the instant the Indian began fitting the 
shaft to the string while still running, Alden 
shouted at the top of his voice. It was a warn- 
ing which was understood and went through 
the fugitive like an electric shock. He bound- 
ed several feet in air, and dropped the ar- 
row to the ground, but he did not lessen the 
haste with which he was speeding in order to 
pick it up. 

All this occupied but a few brief minutes. 
The disgusted Dick had carried his rider to 
within ten feet of the fugitive and now eased 
,his pace. The respective speed of each was 
the same. The pony had done his part and 
refused to do more. 

Alden Payne decided upon his course at the 
beginning of the race. He would maintain 
the pursuit, allowing the Indian to hold his 
place a little in advance until the end of the 
gorge was reached and the wretch had the 


244 


RACING FOR LIFE 


chance to dart aside. This, however, was not 
the end of the most peculiar occurrence. 

In his panic the redskin attempted the im- 
possible. Fancying the pony was upon his 
heels, and his rider about to reach over and 
seize or strike him, he made a turn to the right, 
leaped high in air and grasped the end of a 
projecting ledge of stone. Then with the 
same fierce haste as before, he strove to draw 
himself over the edge to the narrow support 
above. He succeeded, for the task was not 
difficult, but there was not enough space to 
hide any portion of his body. He had room 
barely to stand, and Alden could have picked 
him off as readily as when he was fleeing be- 
fore him. The poor wretch shrank as close 
as he could against the wall and cowered and 
glared and awaited the bullet. 

And Alden Payne, instead of harming him 
waved his hand and shouted: 

“Good-by, old fellow! Give my love to 
your folks.” 

It was a strange piece of jocularity, but the 
genial hearted youth doubted whether it would 
be appreciated. Having gone by the warrior 
he left him in the best possible position to dis- 
charge one of his missiles, and according to 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


the general rule, that is what he would have 
done. 

Much has been said and written about the 
gratitude of the American Indian. That he 
sometimes displays that virtue cannot be de- 
nied, but among the wild tribes of the plains, 
or Southwest, the rule is the other way. I 
have referred to this elsewhere. The first per- 
son an Apache strives to kill when the chance 
offers is he who has given him bread and drink. 
He is as quick to bite the hand that has fed 
his hunger as a rattlesnake is to strike the foot 
that crushes him. 

It is a pleasure therefore to tell the truth 
regarding the Indian (whose tribe Alden 
Payne never learned) that had been spared by 
the amateur Pony Express Rider. He might 
have made it bad for the youth who was riding 
from him, and who as a consequence could not 
keep an eye upon his every movement. When 
Alden looked back as he did several times, he 
saw the warrior still on his perch, and watching 
him, but the huge bow in his hand was not 
raised nor was another arrow drawn to the 
head, while the horseman was within reach of 
the primitive weapon. 

This strange situation could last only a brief 


S46 


RACING FOR LIFE 


time. The speed of Dick rapidly carried him 
and his rider beyond reach of any bow and ar- 
row ever devised. The gorge remained com- 
paratively straight for quite a way, and the 
mutual view lasted longer than would have 
been the case either earlier or later. 

Alden was not yet out of sight of the In- 
dian when he emitted a series of tremulous 
whoops, the like of which the rider had never 
before heard on his journey across the plains. 
The first sound was an explosive shout, and the 
half dozen which succeeded trailed off into si- 
lence. The redskin made this strange outcry 
three times and then ceased. 

“I suppose he means that as a reply to my 
salute,” laughed Alden, who the next minute 
whisked bej^ond view around a turn in the 
gorge. ‘Tf I knew how to reply I should do 
so, but we’ll have to wait till next time.” 

Dick showed no disposition to slacken his 
pace and his rider did not restrain him. Just 
after making the turn referred to Alden turned 
his head. What led him to do so he could not 
explain since he knew he was clear of the war- 
rior whom he had nearly scared out of his wits, 
but he saw an amazing sight. The varying 
character of the gorge showed a projecting 


CAUSE AND EFFECT 


247 


mass of stone on the right near the top. It 
was at a wide part of the ravine, and the pecul- 
iar shape of the rocks left a partial cavity be- 
hind the jutting portion large enough to hold 
several persons. 

And in this depression three Indians, look- 
ing much like the one he had left out of sight, 
had evidently just risen from the ground and 
stood motionless as if watching him as he skur- 
ried from them. They must have been there 
when he rode beneath within fifty feet of where 
they were lying in ambush. 

Alden was dumfounded. What could it 
all mean? After watching and probably sig- 
naling they had waited till he rode right into 
the trap and then had allowed him to ride out 
again, unharmed and all unsuspicious of his 
peril. 

‘‘That is too much for me,” mused the per- 
plexed youth; ‘T spared one of them when I 
had him dead to rights, but why should those 
three spare me? That isn’t the way — 

Could those odd sounding signals which the 
single warrior sent forward from his perch on 
the rocks have had anything to do with it? 
Did they cause the forbearance of his comrades 
farther up the gorge? That such should be 


248 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the case seemed incredible, but days afterward 
Alden submitted the question to Shagbark. 
The veteran stroked his whiskers, puffed his 
pipe for a minute, and then squinted one eye. 

“Thar’s only one way to explanify it,” he 
answered; “the varmint whose scalp ye left on 
top of his head was so thankful that he sig- 
naled ahead to the other three varmints not to 
hurt ye, ’cause ye and him war friends. 

“I’ll own that that ain’t the gin’ral style of 
the critters, but sometimes they act jest as if 
they war white men, and better than some white 
men I’ve met.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


AT THE STATION 

D ick the pony held his swift gallop for 
a half mile farther, when he debouched 
into an open country, similar in many respects 
to that which he had left behind him. While 
it could not be called level, it showed no steep 
inclines and the masses of rocks and heaps of 
boulders were readily flanked by the superb 
courser. 

The plucky animal let himself out immedi- 
ately and the admiring Alden still allowed the 
reins to lie on his neck. 

“You need no orders from me, old fellow,” 
said he; “when the history of the Pony Ex- 
press is written, more credit should be given 
to you and your comrades than to some of the 
men who sat in the saddles.” 

The ridge which caused Alden anxiety had 
been crossed, and now when he looked back he 
traced the outlines of the vague column of 
smoke that was slow in dissolving in the sum- 
249 


250 


RACING FOR LIFE 


mer air. Surely nothing more was to be 
feared from that source. No matter how well 
mounted a party of Indians might be, none 
could overhaul the peerless Dick, whose grace- 
ful legs were again doubling under him with 
marvelous rapidity and carrying him and his 
burden as an eagle bears its eaglet on its broad 
back. 

“Now, if I should have a flat sail on my 
right and left like a kite,” mused Alden, giv- 
ing rein to his whimsical fancy, “this speed 
would lift us clear and we should skim through 
the air like a swallow. We should have to 
come down now and then, when the hoofs 
would give us another flip upward and away 
we should go. I’ll make the suggestion when 
I get the chance.” 

Suddenly he caught sight of a buck cours- 
ing in front. Where he came from he could 
not guess. Dick must have headed for him 
without either being aware of the fact, until 
the horse was almost upon the creature. 

The latter kept up his wild flight for several 
hundred yards when he was terrified to find that 
man and horse were gaining upon him. Then 
the buck showed a gleam of sense by bolting to 
the right. He made astonishing bounds and 


AT THE STATION 


251 


skimmed with arrowy speed, but it was less 
than that of his pursuer. Was there any 
creature of the plains which could surpass the 
half-bred mustang? No. 

Alden wondered whether the pony would 
change his course and press the pursuit of the 
game, as almost any one of his species would 
have done in similar circumstances. But Dick 
did not vary a hair until he confronted another 
pile of rocks. Instead of flanking them on the 
same side with the buck, he whisked in the 
other direction. What was a whole herd of 
deer to him? He carried the United States 
mail and everything must give way to that. 

From the moment that Alden saw the buck 
bounding in front of him, he could have 
brought him down without checking the pony. 
But he did not raise his rifle. To have fired 
would have been as wanton an act as the 
slaughter of the hundreds of thousands of buf- 
faloes during the few years that followed. 

He was convinced that Dick was again go- 
ing at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour. 
He would not have been surprised had the 
speed been even greater. That, however, was 
hardly possible. Again the still air rose to a 
gale and the velvety thumping of the delicate 


252 


RACING FOR LIFE 


hoops was bewildering in its swiftness. He 
sat firmly in the saddle, leaning slightly for- 
ward and now and then jerking down his hat 
which was in danger of being whisked off by 
the wind. 

“What’s the use, Dick?” asked Alden. 
“Why not take things easier? But to do that 
would be to rob you of your enjoyment. Hel- 
loa! there’s something new!” 

He was coursing over the undulating 
ground, when his gaze rested on a building half 
a mile away and in the line of Dick’s run. It 
was a low, flat structure of logs, such as is often 
seen on the frontier. At the rear was a cov- 
ered inclosure and from the rough, stone chim- 
ney, built at one end on the outside of the 
main building, rose a spiral of smoke — proof 
that the cabin had occupants. 

“It’s the station!” exclaimed the rider the 
next moment. He observed three men stand- 
ing in front, with a saddled horse near them. 
Evidently they were watching his approach. 

It was the rule among Pony Express Riders 
that upon arriving within a half mile of a sta- 
tion, they should proclaim the fact by giving 
the “coyote yell.” This was notice to their 


AT THE STATION 


253 


friends to have a fresh horse ready, for it must 
be borne in mind that the minutes were pre- 
cious. As the panting animal dashed up, his 
rider sprang from the saddle before he had 
fairly halted and ready hands helped secure it 
to the back of the waiting horse. The messen- 
ger leaped like an acrobat into place, caught 
up the reins, touched with his spurs the flanks 
of the animal, which instantly responded with 
a bound, and was off on a headlong run. 

Often the rider snatched up the lunch that 
was waiting him, and ate while his horse was 
going at top speed. He shouted back to his 
cheering friends, with whom he had exchanged 
a few hurried words and the next minute was 
beyond hearing. 

Such was the rule while the rider was mak- 
ing his run. Generally the stations were 
twelve or fifteen miles apart, and the ride of 
a one man was thirty or forty miles. This 
compelled two changes such as described, after 
starting on his furious race. At the end of 
his “stunt,” the new man, freshly mounted was 
awaiting him. The pause after the arrival of 
the courier was just long enough for the sad- 
dle and mail pouches to be transferred, when 


254 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the relief sped' away for the next station, and if 
all went well, completed his task in schedule 
time,. 

The stations as has been stated were scat- 
tered over a line nearly two thousand miles 
long, through the wildest and most dangerous 
section of our continent. This distance had 
to be covered in eight days, which was an aver- 
age of two hundred and fifty miles a dayj the 
like of which had never been known before 
and probably will never be known again. We 
recall that the number of these stations be- 
tween Sacramento and St. Joseph, Missouri, 
was a hundred and ninety. No regular inter- 
vals, however, could be established, for a great 
deal depended upon the physical nature of the 
country. From what has been already said, 
it will be understood that a horseman often had 
to d(5 double duty because of some accident to 
his partner. Thus more that one Express 
Rider covered two and in a few instances three 
hundred miles never leaving the saddle except 
for a minute or two when changing horses. 
While the system M^as wonderful in its com- 
pleteness, many breaks were inevitable. 

The three men who were standing in front 


AT THE STATION 


^55 


of the squat cabin were Tom Harper, Tim 
Jenkins, and Gideon Altman. A brother of 
the last named was absent hunting game for 
the larder of the establishment. The first 
named — Harper — was wiry and slight of 
frame, while the other two were of ordinary 
stature. Harper was a rider, but the weight 
of his comrades shut them out, except in case 
of necessity. 

Dick Lightfoot who had reached his “last 
station” a dozen miles to the eastward, was due 
at the present place in time to meet his brother, 
wdiom Alden encountered at the time of his 
flurry with the bear. The men at the station 
knew that some accident must have befallen 
Dick and were therefore 6n the watch, when 
they descried a stranger ^com^i^ toward them 
on the pony which they vecogm^^d^s belong- 
ing to the missing rider. 

Dick was in a lather and his sides heaved. 
Alden did not dismount but looked down in 
the faces of the group who scrutinized him 
keenly. Tim Jenkins, massive and heavily 
bearded, acted as speaker for his comrades. 

“Who are you?” he demanded of Alden, 
who gave his name. 


^56 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Where’s Dick Lightfoot?” 

“He was killed by Indians eight or ten miles 
back.” 

“How do you come to be mounted on his 
pony?” 

There was an aggressiveness in the tone and 
manner of Jenkins, but Alden ignored it. The 
circumstances warranted suspicion. So he 
told his story as succinctly as he could. The 
three listened closely, and must have felt the 
truth of the words of the youth whose looks 
and personality pleased them. 

“You’ve got grit, young man,” commented 
Jenkins; “did you have any idea of the risks 
you had to run?” 

“I saw Alexander Carlyle the first rider 
start from St. Joe last April, and on our way 
across the plains I have exchanged a few words 
with others. I knew it wasn’t any child’s 
play.” 

“You’re right — it isn’t. Poor Dick! it will 
be a sad blow to his brother Sam. I suppose 
your friends will look after the body when 
they come up to it?” 

“There’s no doubt of that; I sent word to 
Shagbark, our guide, who would do it without 
any such request from me.” 


AT THE STATION 


S57 


‘‘Shagbark, eh? So he's your guide; well, 
there isn’t a better one in the West than he; 
that’s what Kit Carson has said many a time 
and he knows. See here, my young friend, 
what’s the use of your staying in that saddle? 
Your pony doesn’t go any farther.” 

“But I should like to do so.” 

“Tom Harper is here fo take the place of 
any chap that gets knocked out.” 

“Why not let me complete the run?” 

The three men looked in one another’s faces 
and smiled significantly. 

“Do you really want to try it?” 

“Nothing can suit me better.” 

“You have never been over the route.” 

“I have never been over the run just finished ; 
I left everything to the pony and he did not go 
astray.” 

Alden did not think it worth while to tell of 
his adventure in the gorge while coming 
through the ridge. 

“You’re correct as to the ponies; all of them 
have been over the road long enough to be- 
come familiar with it. What do you say, 
Tom?” asked Jenkins, turning to the relief 
rider. 

“Well, I ain’t partic’lar,” replied the wiry 
17 


258 


RACING FOR LIFE 


fellow, who despite his youthful looks, was a 
veteran of the plains; “I expected to ride, if 
anything happened to Dick, but this young 
chap seems to have set his heart on it and I 
don’t want to spoil his fun.” 

Alden’s eyes sparkled, Having begun the 
run, almost from the beginning, he was ambi- 
tious to complete it. 

“Then it’s settled,” said he, dropping from 
the saddle, and stepping across to the waiting 
animal. 

“Hold on a minute,” interposed Jenkins; 
“being as you ain’t a reg’lar you needn’t be 
as strict as they have to be.” 

“What do you mean?” asked the puzzled 
Alden fearing that he was to be subjected to 
some vexatious handicap. 

“It’s a good fifteen miles to the next station 
and most of the way is so rough that your 
horse will have to walk; there are a few 
stretches where you can let him out, but, for 
all that, you won’t reach the station till weU 
into the night.” 

“What of that?” 

“You need rest.” 

“I’m not tired,” persisted Alden, afraid that 
the men would change their minds. 


AT THE STATION 


259 


“That may be, for you haven’t had much of 
a ride yet, but it is nearly dark ; you must eat 
supper with us.” 

“You are kind, but have we time? The mail 
is already late.” 

Jenkins threw back his head and laughed. 
His mirth was so unrestrained that his com- 
rades and even Alden smiled in sympathy. 

“If you want a job I’ll recommend you to 
Colonel Majors. I saw from the way you 
rode when you came in sight that you under- 
stand the business.” 

“How much are we behind the schedule?” 

Jenkins drew out a big silver watch whose 
ticking could be heard by aU. He squinted 
one eye and studied the figures. 

“A little more than an hour : it’s no hanging 
matter if you make it two or three hours more.” 

The action of the man reminded Alden that 
he had the watch and papers of Dick Light- 
foot in his possession. He took them out and 
explaining the matter, handed them to Jen- 
kins. 

Had the youth been given his choice, he 
would have resumed his ride without another 
minute’s delay, but to refuse the invitation 
might offend. Moreover, he was hungry. 


260 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Your advice is good and I am thankful to 
eat with you.” 

Four men made their quarters at this lonely 
cabin. One of them was an extra rider for 
emergencies, while all, as has been said, could 
perform the duty if required. Such supplies 
as they needed were sent to them by their em- 
ployers. Russell, Majors & Waddell were the 
proprietors, who made their headquarters in 
the east, while Bolivar Roberts was superin- 
tendent of the western division. In Carson 
City, Nevada, he engaged the fifty or sixty 
riders needed, and he and the firm looked care- 
fully after their employees. 

Since nearly all the stations were in the midst 
of superb hunting grounds, the men at the re- 
mote posts obtained a large part of their food 
by means of their guns. It was a pleasant 
variation of the monotony, and the spice of 
danger from prowling redskins gave zest to 
their enjoyment. 

Dick having been unsaddled was turned out 
to graze with three others. In the inclosure at 
the rear of the cabin, these were gathered at 
night or during stormy weather, and one or 
two were always in readiness for the regular 
riders. The horse which Alden was to ride 


AT THE STATION 


S61 


for the next station was allowed to wait, sad- 
dled and bridled, and ready to start the mo- 
ment called upon. 

Alden followed his friend into the cabin, 
with Harper and Altman at his heels. Lean- 
ing his rifle against the logs by the door, he 
glanced around. 

The dwelhng could not have been of simpler 
structure. The single room was some twenty 
feet square. At one end was an old fashioned 
fireplace, in the middle of which stood a small 
cooking stove, a single joint of pipe pushing 
up into the chimney. A few simple utensils 
hung around on spikes, and a goodly pile of 
wood was always at hand. A barrel of flour, 
a big can of coffee, another of sugar and 
smaller boxes of spices and condiments were 
disposed of with more regard for convenience 
than appearance. At one side of the room 
were four bunks, with blankets and several 
buffalo robes. There were a bench, a table 
made of planks, four stools and clothing hang- 
ing on nails driven into the logs. The only 
picture on the walls was a woodcut from a 
newspaper, showing the homely features of 
Abraham Lincoln who had been nominated a 
short time before by the newly-born Republi- 


262 


RACING FOR LIFE 


can party, for the presidency of the United 
States. 

Although the weather now was balmy, there 
were times when it raged like a hurricane from 
the Arctic regions. Therefore the logs were 
thick and the crevices between them tilled with 
clay. The heavy planking on the floor was 
wedged closely with a view of shutting otf 
uncomfortable drafts. 

Only one door was sawed in front. It was 
made of massive planking and swung on big 
iron hinges. All round the four sides were 
windows, none of which had panes. They 
were too narrow for the slimmest man that 
ever lived to squeeze through. When the 
storms beat against one side of the cabin, the 
openings there were closed by means of small, 
wooden shutters, turning on hinges of leather. 

In the event of Indian attack — which im- 
pended at almost any hour of the day or night 
— these loopholes were useful to the defend- 
ers. At other times, they helped in the way of 
ventilation and the lighting of the apartment. 

The meal was ready when Alden Payne was 
waved by Jenkins to one of the stools at the 
side of the table, which consisted of three un- 
planed boards. A huge roast of venison, done 


AT THE STATION 


263 


to a turn, and resting on a big tin platter was 
the main dish. There were thick slices, too, 
of well-baked bread, though nothing in the 
way of butter or vegetables. But Jenkins 
filled each large cup from the capacious pot 
simmering on the stove, and the fragrant odor 
was delightful to the keen appetites. Con- 
densed milk answered well for the real article, 
and few meals were more palatable than that 
eaten by Alden at this mail station in the wilds 
of the West. Right glad was he that his host 
had insisted upon his tarrying for that pur- 
pose. Nothing could have braced him better 
for the task before him. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


OUTWITTED 



LTHOUGH the meal lasted but a few 


l \ minutes, much was said. Harper and 
Altman developed a talkative streak and had 
much to tell their guest. The three had been 
located at the station for more than two months 
during a portion of which time “business was 
hvely.” Only a fortnight before, the cabin 
underwent a siege for three days and nights 
from a large party of Piutes, who peppered the 
logs well. They ran off a couple of ponies, 
but Harper and Jenkins recovered both after 
a long pursuit. 

The redskins circled about the structure and 
fired through the windows, but did not harm 
any of the defenders, who picked off two or 
three of them. Things might have turned out 
ill had not one of the Express Riders carried 
the news to the nearest fort which hurried a 
squad of cavalry to the spot. 

There had been no trouble with the Indians 


264 


OUTWITTED 


265 


since, though parties now and then appeared 
in the distance as if reconnoitering. It was 
not to be expected that they would remain tran- 
quil much longer. 

^‘What kind of a route is it to the next sta- 
tion?” asked Alden, when the party had gone 
outside and he had mounted. 

“Pretty much hke what you’ve ridden over. 
Some stretches of good ground, with plenty 
of ravines and gulhes and two or three streams 
to cross, but you couldn’t have a better sea- 
son.” 

“The pony seems to be a good one ; I shall be 
satisfied if he is the equal of Dick.” 

“He’s tough and fast; I think he once be- 
longed to a circus, for he knows a good many 
tricks.” 

“If he knows the trick of getting me 
through, neither I nor any one else could ask 
anything more of him.” 

Alden was about to start when he recalled 
the matter of the cartridges. He gave his belt 
to Jenkins and accepted one from him. It 
might seem a trifling thing that he should leave 
the heavier one behind for the sake of the sav- 
ing in weight, but such was the fact, though 
the difference was slight. He could secure 


^66 


RACING FOR LIFE 


all the other cartridges he might need from his 
friends. 

“I must weigh twenty pounds more than 
Dick Lightfoot and everything counts. What 
is the pony’s name?” 

“Bucephalus,” was the amazing reply. 

“Great Cgesar!” laughed Alden; “do you 
call him that?” 

“’Ceph for short; well, good bye!” 

Alden waved his hand and was off like a 
thunderbolt. 

Our young friend was hardly out of sight 
of the little group who stood watching him, 
when ’Ceph became playful. He had been 
resting so long that he yearned for exercise 
and action. As an introduction he reached 
around and nipped at the rider’s ankle. A 
horse is quick to learn what kind of man holds 
the reins, and woe to him whom the equine de- 
spises! Bucephalus would not have needed 
any enlightenment had Harper or any one of 
the regular riders been in the saddle, but he 
wasn’t sure about the lusty young fellow who 
was trying to lord it over him. 

When the head came about, and Alden saw 
what the pony meant, he gave him a vigorous 
kick on the end of his nose. ’Ceph wasn’t. 


OUTWITTED 


267 


pleased with that, and after a brief wait tried 
to bite the other ankle. Alden promptly 
kicked him harder than before. 

Evidently that wasn’t the right way to over- 
come the conceited young man, so what did 
Bucephalus do but suddenly buck? He arched 
his back, jammed his hoofs together and 
bounced up and down as if the ground had 
suddenly become red hot. Alden hadn’t ex- 
pected anything of the kind, and came within 
a hair of being unhorsed. He saved himself, 
braced his legs and body and then let the ani- 
mal do his best or worst. The youth was sorry 
he had no spurs, for he would have been glad 
to drive them into the sides of the mischievous 
brute. The latter bucked until tired, then 
spun around as if on a pivot and finally dashed 
off on a dead run. 

Alden let him go unrestrained, knowing he 
was taking the right course, for he saw plenty 
of hoof prints in the ground over which they 
skimmed. It was not difficult for our young 
friend to keep his seat, and he was rather 
pleased with the liveliness of the animal. 

‘‘There won’t be much of this left in you at 
the end of fifteen miles, ’Cephy, and I have no 
objection so long as it doesn’t block the game.” 


268 


RACING FOR LIFE 


After a time it was plain the pony had given 
up the fight. He was galloping steadily, as 
if like the others, he had but one ambition in 
life which was to throw the miles behind him in 
the shortest possible time. All the same, Al- 
den was on his guard. There was no saying 
what whim might enter the head of the brute. 
One of his kind will be good for weeks with 
no other object than to throw a man off his 
guard. It did not seem likely that such was 
tlie case with the animal Alden was riding, 
though it might be so. He thought it more 
probably due to a natural exuberance of spir- 
its, which after a time would wear oif. 

There was no perceptible change in the 
character of the country through which he was 
riding until some four or five miles had been 
traversed. The undulations were trifling and 
at the end of the distance named, it may be 
doubted whether horse and rider were ten feet 
higher or lower than at their starting point. 
The surface was rough in many places, but 
not once did ’Ceph slacken his splendid pace, 
which must have risen to twenty miles an hour. 
He had to swerve and occasionally make rather 
long detours to avoid natural obstacles, but he 
lost no time. Had the conditions lasted he 


OUTWITTED 


269 


would have covered the fifteen miles well with- 
in three-fourths of an hour. 

The pony slackened his pace, though still 
maintaining a gallop, for the ground not only 
compelled him to veer first to the right and 
then to the left, but took an upward turn. 
Following his rule of leaving his animal to his 
own will, Alden did not touch the reins. The 
fact that tracks showed on the right and left 
as well as in front indicated that he was fol- 
lowing a well-traveled course, though he could 
not discern any traces of wagon wheels. 

The sun had sunk behind the mountain 
range which towered to the northwest and the 
jagged crests were tinted with the golden 
rays. The scene was grandly beautiful, and 
though he had looked upon many like it, Alden 
never lost his admiration of those pictures 
which are nowhere seen in such majesty and 
impressiveness as in our own country. 

Well to the northward rose a peak, whose 
white crest showed it was always crowned with 
snow. Seen in the distance the spotless blanket 
had a faint bluish tint, caused by the miles of 
pure, intervening atmosphere. Although the 
range to his left did not sweep around far 
enough to cross the course he was pursuing. 


270 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Alden could not help wondering whether a 
turn in the trail would not force him to pass 
through the spur as he had done in the case of 
the lesser range behind him. 

“If it is so, there must be a pass, for many 
others have traveled this road before me.” 

It seemed that he ought to overtake some 
emigrant train, since hundreds of them were 
plodding westward, and his speed was much 
greater than theirs. But he saw no more evi- 
dence of other persons about him than if he 
were in the midst of an unknown desert. He 
might as well have been the only horseman 
or footman within a thousand miles of the 
spot. 

It was with a queer sensation that once more 
scanning the ridge to the northwest, Alden 
distinguished a column of smoke climbing into 
the sky, just as he had discerned one earlier in 
the afternoon. He had not yet decided in 
his own mind whether the former bore any re- 
lation to his passage through the gorge, and 
he was equally uncertain about the signal that 
now obtruded itself. He brought his binoc- 
ular to bear, and with ’Ceph on a rapid walk, 
spent several minutes in studying the vapor. 
The result was as in the previous instance, ex- 


OUTWITTED 


^71 


cept that the fire which gave off the smoke 
appeared to be burning among a clump of 
pines instead of behind a pile of boulders. 
Once or twice in the gathering gloom he fan- 
cied he detected the twinkle of the blaze; but 
if so, the fact gave him no additional knowl- 
edge of the puzzling question. 

It cannot be said that he felt any misgiving, 
so long as the course of the pony did not lead 
him toward the signal smoke which may not 
have been a signal after all. Wandering 
bands of Indians must have had frequent need 
of fires for preparing food, and it would seem 
that more of them ought to have been seen 
by the horseman. 

’Ceph was still walking. Although the 
steepness had declined, he showed no disposi- 
tion to increase his pace. Alden was sur- 
prised, for it was not that way with Dick. The 
viciousness shown by the pony lowered him 
in the esteem of the youth. He could not 
shake off the suspicion that the ugly spirit 
would show itself again, even though the ani- 
mal had been conquered for the time. 

For the last fifteen minutes, Alden was con- 
scious of a dull, steady roar which gradually 
increased as he went on. He was drawing 


272 


RACING FOR LIFE 


near the cause and must soon learn its nature. 
He was still wandering and speculating, when 
he caught the gleam of water through the 
sparse willows that hned the trail. 

“Jenkins told me I should have to cross some 
streams and this must be one of them.” 

So it proved. A minute later, the animal 
came to the margin of a swift creek which 
flowed at right angles to his course. In the 
obscurity of the settling night, Alden made 
out the farther bank, which was about a 
hundred yards away. A growth of willows 
showed, and ’Ceph hesitated with outstretched 
nose, as he snuifed the ground. Instead of 
entering the water at once, he moved to the 
right for several rods and stopped again. He 
was looking for the ford, from which fact his 
rider judged they were off the regular trail. 
Leaning over in the saddle he scrutinized the 
ground. He saw no signs of hoof prints or 
tracks of wagon wheels. 

He did not interfere with the horse, who, 
having passed the brief distance, began snuf- 
flng again and gingerly stepped into the 
stream. When the water came to his knees, 
he paused long enough to drink and then re- 
sumed feeling his way across. 


OUTWITTED 


S73 


With the setting of the sun, the temperature 
had fallen a number of degrees. Alden was 
warmly clothed, but had no blanket. When 
he left the train in company with Jethro he 
expected to rejoin his friends before the close 
of the afternoon and a blanket would have 
been an incumbrance, but quite acceptable 
now. 

“I hope ’Ceph won’t have to swim,” he said, 
with a shudder: ‘T shall be chilled, for I know 
the water is icy, but there’s no help for it.” 

The roar that had caught his attention some 
time before sounded on his left in the direction 
of the ridge, where the signal fire was burning. 
The explanation was clear: the stream issued 
from some gorge or tumbled over rapids or 
falls, and gave out the noise that was audible 
for a long distance in the stillness of approach- 
ing night. 

The pony felt his way carefully, with nose 
thrust forward, occasionally snorting and not 
bearing down until he found the bottom with 
his advanced hoof. Once he shpped, but in- 
stantly recovered himself. 

Alden waited till his feet were within a few 
inches of the surface. Then he slipped them 
out of the stirrups and drew them up in front. 

18 


S74 RACING FOR LIFE 

Deprived thus of his ‘‘balancing poles,” a 
quick flirt of the pony to one side would have 
flung him into the water, but ’Ceph, if he was 
aware of it (and it would seem he ought to 
have been), did not seize the chance. 

Half the distance was passed and the dang- 
ling stirrups dipped. Would the good for- 
tune continue all the way across? 

It did. The stream shallowed, and increas- 
ing his pace, the pony stepped out on the other 
bank, with the moisture dripping from his 
fetlocks. Only the lower part of his body, 
however, had been wetted. Alden himself 
was dry even to the soles of his shoes. 

“Thank fortune!” he exclaimed; “I hope we 
shall have the same luck at the next stream. 
Now we’re off again, old fellow.” 

As nearly as the rider could judge, he had 
ridden half the distance to the next station. If 
he were right, seven or eight miles remained 
to be traversed. He was doing well but why 
did not ’Ceph “let himself out,” when the 
ground was favorable? He still walked, 
though ever stepping rapidly, with head dip- 
ping with each fall of the hoof. 

For the first time, Alden broke the rule 
which had governed him heretofore: he spoke 


OUTWITTED 


275 


sharply to the pony and jerked the bridle rein. 
The animal instantly responded with a gallop 
which he kept up for a half mile, when he 
dropped again to a walk. And before he did 
this, his rider discovered to his consternation 
that he was going lame. 

The limp showed more plainly when he was 
walking, and was steadily aggravated until 
the progress became painful to the rider. He 
was of a merciful disposition and could not 
bear the sight of suffering in a dumb creature. 
He stopped the horse and dropped from the 
saddle. 

‘T shall be in a fine fix if you give out, 
’Ceph, not knowing the way to the next sta- 
tion nor to the one we have left, but I am more 
sorry for you than for myself.” 

The animal was bearing his weight on three 
legs, the tip of the right fore hoof just touch- 
ing the ground. He seemed to be suffering, 
and favored the disabled leg all he could. 
Speaking soothingly, Alden gently passed his 
hand down the graceful limb from the bent 
knee to the fetlock. Although he used only 
the weakest pressure, ’Ceph winced when the 
friendly fingers glided over the slim shank, as 
if the touch was painful. 


276 


RACING FOR LIFE 


‘‘There’s where the trouble is,” he decided; 
“he must have strained a tendon, though I 
don’t feel any difference.” 

With infinite care and tenderness Alden 
fondled the limb, and ’Ceph showed his appre- 
ciation by touching his nose to his shoulders as 
he bent over his task. The youth increased 
the pressure and rubbed more briskly. The 
action seemed to give relief, and by and by the 
pony set the hoof down on the ground and 
stood evenly on his four legs. 

Hoping that the trouble had passed, Alden 
walked backward a few steps and called upon 
’Ceph to follow. He obeyed and stepped off 
without the slightest evidence of trouble. The 
rider’s hopes rose higher. 

“If you will lead I’ll be glad to follow; it 
won’t do — ” 

His heart sank, for hardly half a dozen 
steps were taken when ’Ceph limped again: 
the halt grew more pronounced, and suddenly 
he hobbled one or two steps on three legs, hold- 
ing the remaining hoof clear of the ground 
as he did so. 

“That settles it,” said his master; “you may 
be able to reach the station without any load 
by resting often, but it will be hard work.” 


OUTWITTED 


277 

In the effort to aid the sufferer, Alden now 
removed the saddle and mail pouches. With 
his rifle they formed quite a burden, but he 
was strong and rugged, and knew he could 
carry them as fast and probably faster than 
his companion would travel. 

‘T ought to leave you here,” reflected the 
youth, “ and I should do so, if I knew my way; 
I need you as a guide and shall have to suit my 
pace to yours.” 

Once more he nursed the foreleg and after 
a time, ’Ceph set it down. He hobbled for- 
ward a score of paces before the limp reap- 
peared. After that he kept it up until his 
master called to liim to stop. 

It looked as if the mustang understood what 
was asked of him, and was doing his utmost 
to grant it. Alden kept at his side, and as 
soon as he paused, patted his neck and spoke 
encouragingly. 

’Ceph rested but a few minutes when he re- 
sumed his walk without any word from his 
master. The latter with amazement noted that 
the animal’s gait improved. He stepped off 
with increasing speed. Soon no limp was per- 
ceptible: he walked as well as ever! 

“Good!” called Alden; “you’ve got pluck; 


278 


RACING FOR LIFE 


I take back all I said against you. Whoa! 
whoa!” 

Instead of obeying the youth hurrying at his 
heels, ’Ceph broke into a gallop and speedily 
passed from sight. Alden kept up the useless 
pursuit until exhausted. Then he stopped dis- 
gusted and angered. He understood the 
whole business. 

It has been said that Bucephalus once be- 
longed to a circus. He had been a trick pony 
and remembered several things. One of them 
was to get rid of a rider whom he disliked by 
pretending to be lame. He had worked the 
stratagem upon Alden Payne, who when too 
late saw through the whole mean business. 


CHAPTER XIX 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 

A LDEN Payne was in the quandary of his 
life. Deserted by the unprincipled 
Bucephalus, he was left with saddle and mail 
pouches six miles or more from his destination, 
and still farther from the station behind him. 
And the worst of it was he did not know the 
way to either. 

It would not have been quite so bad if, when 
the outrage occurred, he had been on the well- 
marked trail, for then he could have groped 
forward, certain of arriving sooner or later at 
the place he had in mind. 

‘Tf I had the chance I’d shoot that con- 
founded ’Ceph!” he exclaimed; “if a horse 
knew how to grin, how he is grinning over the 
youngster he fooled! Well, I shan’t bother 
with yoUj that’s certain.” 

These words were addressed to the saddle, 
which he flung impatiently to the ground: 
279 


280 


RACING FOR LIFE 


‘‘whoever chooses can find you ; I don’t tote you 
another rod.” 

It was different with the mail pouches. He 
felt a peculiar awe concerning them. In some 
way they stood for the great United States. 
Having been locked in distant Missouri, they 
were not to be opened until San Francisco was 
reached. Within those leathern receptacles, 
wrapped in oiled silk nestled the hundreds of 
letters, written on fine tissue paper and sealed 
in flimsy envelopes. Who could tell their 
weighty import? Every writer had paid five 
dollars in advance, and far away on the Pacific 
coast were anxiously waiting the men and 
women for whom the messages were intended. 
No; whatever happened, Alden must get them 
to the station, if the task were within human 
possibility. 

Weighing only twenty pounds, the pouches 
were not burdensome. Slinging one over 
either shoulder, and trailing his rifle, the sturdy 
youth could have walked a score of miles with- 
out being irked. The whole and sole problem 
was to go in the right direction. 

It was a puzzle indeed. The most sensible 
course seemed to stay where he was until morn- 
ing. Daylight would enable him to find the 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE ^81 


trail, and the labor was comparatively easy. 
He walked to the nearest boulder and sat down. 
The night had grown more chilly and he shiv- 
ered. He always carried a box of matches in 
a small rubber safe, it was easy to collect 
enough twigs and branches to start a fire. 

Two causes, however, prevented his doing 
this. He could not forget that signal smoke 
which told that Indians were not far off. The 
blaze was likely to draw them to the spot. 
Again, his mind was in such a tumult, that he 
could not sit still. He must keep moving. 

There was no moon in the sky, but the mil- 
lions of stars were never more brilliant. In 
the clear atmosphere they gave enough illum- 
ination to show quite well where he trod, except 
when threading through the willows or passing 
close to the towering masses of rocks. Inas- 
much as he had decided to keep up the effort 
to reach the next station, the obvious thing to 
do was to follow in the hoof prints left by the 
pony. Doubtless he was making for the sta- 
tion and would reach it within the coming 
' ^ hour. What would the agents think when he 
dashed up without rider, saddle or mail 
pouches? What could they think except that 
the man had been killed and the bags stolen? 


282 


RACING FOR LIFE 


It is a difficult but not impossible task to 
trail a horse by night. To do it, however, re- 
quires the finest woodcraft. That wonderful 
scout Kit Carson performed the exploit many 
times, when he had neither the moon nor stars 
to aid him. First locating the trail, he 
reasoned out the point for which his enemies 
were making. His familiarity with the 
country and his intimate knowledge of the red 
men were rarely at fault. It might be some 
river crossing a dozen miles away. Paying 
no further attention to the trail, the pursuer 
hurried to the ford, where by passing his hands 
over the earth he learned whether the hoof- 
prints were there. If so, and as I have said 
he seldom missed it, he decided the next most 
likely point for which the fugitives were head- 
ing, when he took up the pursuit and pressed 
it as before. More than once by this remark- 
able strategy he reached a certain place ahead 
of the Indians and ambushed them when they 
came up. 

But such exploits make an accurate knowl- 
edge of the country indispensable. Alden 
Payne was a stranger in a strange land, beside 
which his experience was not to be compared 
with that of the peerless scout and mountaineer 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 


283 


named. And yet to a certain extent he fol- 
lowed the policy of the veteran. 

His conclusion was reasonable that Buceph- 
alus was making for the station and would 
change his course only when turned temporar- 
ily aside by obstacles. He would follow the 
line of least resistance all the way through. 
His late rider meant to do the same. 

Standing a few minutes at the beginning 
of the trail, with mail pouches slung over his 
shoulders he took up his hard task. So long 
as he was erect, he could not see the impressions 
in the earth, but by stooping low made them 
out. At such times, when the surface was 
flinty or pebbly, he not only used the sense of 
feeling, but lighted a match. Holding this 
close to the ground he was generally able to 
see that for which he was seeldng. 

Alden must have traversed a furlong with- 
out turning to the right or left. At the end 
of that distance the ground began slightly 
rising, and led to a low rocky ridge. Once 
more he paused and held a lighted match to 
the ground. 

He had made no mistake: the impressions 
showed clearly. The fact sent a thrill of hope 
through him. He might succeed after all. 


284 RACING FOR LIFE 

Noting that the signs turned to the left, he 
did the same. A dozen paces brought him to 
a depression through which it seemed likely the 
pony had gone. He followed and coming up 
the opposite side made sure by lighting another 
match. The footprints were not visible. 

He retraced his steps and went farther to the 
left. Coming to a level spot, he resorted to 
his tiny torch again. He was right : Buceph- 
alus had chosen the easier course, though 
how the sagacious animal knew of its existence 
was beyond guessing. 

By this time Alden understood that at the 
rate he was using his matches, they could not 
last beyond an hour or less. He slackened his 
pace and studied his surroundings with the 
utmost care. Only when absolutely necessary 
did he intend to ignite his lucifers. 

He had never heard of the methods em- 
ployed by veteran trailers, though Shagbark 
had practised them, but reflection caused 
Alden to try this one. He stooped and gently 
passed one hand over the soft earth. A few 
minutes of effort told him he was on the trail 
of the pony. 

He had straightened up and was walking 
cautiously, when he was startled by the reports 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 


285 


of several rifles flred so nearly together that 
he could not tell the number. They came 
from a point diagonally in front, but at a con- 
siderable distance. He paused, undecided 
what to do. 

There was no guessing the meaning of the 
alarm, but naturally he accepted the worst con- 
struction. The guns must have been dis- 
charged by Indians with a sinister purpose. 
Probably one of the Pony Express Riders had 
fallen, as others had fallen before him and 
others were to fall in the remaining months of 
the service. 

Alden paused for ten or more minutes and 
then resumed his tramp. It seemed to him 
that the spot where the guns were fired was 
well to the right. Still it was likely the trail 
veered in that direction, for no mortal man ever 
saw a path that was straight, unless laid out 
by compass and rule. 

There was an additional reason for not 
lighting a match, for it might catch the eye 
of some of the dusky prowlers. Consequently 
Alden pushed on stealthily and slowly. Fre- 
quently he paused and listened. The trail could 
change without his being aware of it, for in 
his situation he had no means of judging. 


^86 


RACING FOR LIFE 


His bright wits were ever on a strain and when 
he came to a series of boulders, he again 
stooped and felt of the ground. The soil was 
pebbly and the sense of feeling did not help 
him. 

He hesitated to light a match, for he knew 
he was near the spot whence had come the 
sounds of rifle filing. He straightened up 
and listened. A gentle wind stirred the wil- 
lows in front, the faint murmur of the moun- 
tain stream behind him came softly to his ears, 
but all else was profound silence. 

He had peered into the star gleam in front 
for some minutes when the conviction grad- 
ually came to him that something not a boulder 
or stone was lying a few paces away. He 
could not identify it without a nearer approach, 
and after a little wait he stepped forward on 
tiptoe. 

He had accepted it as an explanation of the 
startling sounds that came to him a short time 
before. Another Pony Express Rider had 
gone down in the path of duty. But still 
drawing nearer, Alden found the next moment 
he was mistaken. It was the body of a horse 
lying on its side. 

Forgetful for the moment of the peril of the 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 


287 


act, the youth drew another match along the 
corrugated bottom of his little safe and held 
the speck of flame in front of him. 

It was what was left of Bucephalus. He 
had been pierced by several bullets and killed 
while on a full gaUop. 

With a realization of the danger of what he 
was doing, Alden blew out the tiny light and 
flung it to the ground. Then he hastily re- 
treated, turned aside and made his way in 
among the willows. 

Everything was clear to him. A party of 
Indians had formed an ambush at that point 
for the Pony Express Rider. In the gloom, 
they may have supposed he was lying low on 
his horse’s back, but they fired together and 
snuffed out the steed supposed to be carrying 
him. 

Deep gratitude stirred Alden Payne. He 
had believed himself the worst used person in 
the world, when he was deserted by the pony, 
and, say what we please, it was a shabby act, 
but the offender had paid dearly for it. 

“Had he not tricked me, I should have rid- 
den over this spot, and that volley which laid 
him low, would have done the same to me. 
Thank God I” 


288 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Often indeed do misfortunes prove blessings 
in disguise. 

All the same, the young man was in a trying 
situation. Thus far he had been guided by 
the trail of the dead pony. Now he was de- 
prived even of that slight help. What hope 
could he have of finding his way to the station 
in the darkness? 

The most pressing question was as to what 
had become of the fiends who committed this 
deed. It seemed to Alden they could not be 
far off, and the important thing for him to do 
was to get as far away as he could, without any 
delay. 

He dared not push directly forward, for 
that would lead him over the course where the 
waiting red men expected the rider to pass. 
He determined to make a long detour until far 
removed from the dangerous spot, and then 
hide until daybreak, when he would renew his 
search for the station not many miles distant. 

All know how hard it is to keep one’s bear- 
ings in groping through an unknown country. 
It is tenfold harder to do so at night, when 
there is no aid whatever, and nothing to prevent 
yielding to that curious tendency we all show 
to travel in a circle. 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 


289 


In the case of Alden Payne, however, a kind 
Providence took him in hand. Without be- 
ing aware of it, he gradually shifted his course 
until he struck exactly the right one, and really 
advanced toward his destination. Several 
times he stopped with the intention of nestling 
down beside some rock, and sleeping if it 
should prove possible, but the anxiety to get 
as far as he could from that carcass kept him 
going. 

There is no saying how long he would have 
continued had he not been suddenly checked 
by coming to the edge of another stream which 
crossed his course. He had heard no warning 
rippling or murmur, and almost stepped into 
the water before he saw what was in front of 
him. 

“This is the second one which, as Jenkins 
told me, I shall have to cross, but plague take 
it! I don’t like the prospect at all.” 

The stream was not more than half the width 
of the other, but it might be ten times as 
deep and dangerous. He found it was flow- 
ing rapidly, and it was natural that he should 
shrink from venturing into its treacherous icy 
depth. 

The fact that it was an obstacle to his prog- 

19 


RACING FOR LIFE 


S90 

ress made Alden the more anxious to cross. 
Instead of waiting till the morrow, he felt he 
must do so at once. 

Then he asked himself whether he could not 
construct a raft to bear him. He even 
searched up and down the bank but a few min- 
utes showed him the impossibility of his plan. 
About the only wood he found were willows 
and a species of elder, none of which was 
thicker than his wrist. The squat pines scat- 
tered here and there required an axe to cut 
them down, and he had only his hunting knife. 
Perforce he abandoned the scheme. 

It was at this moment that he fancied he 
dimly detected tracks in the mud on the edge 
of the stream. He had come so far from the 
carcass of the pony that he felt little fear qf 
the Indians. He struck another of his matches 
and scrutinized the ground. 

To his astonishment, he saw the prints of 
broad tired wagons, and the tracks of oxen and 
horses. They extended as far up and down 
stream as he could see. The inference was 
plain: in wandering from the course of Bu- 
cephalus, he had foimd his way to a portion of 
the main path followed by the emigrants go- 


A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 


291 


ing westward. This as was the rule was 
spread over a space of a mile or more in width, 
and still greater in other places. 

All Alden had to remember was not to lose 
sight of these landmarks and he would reach 
the station sooner or later. Moreover the evi- 
dence on the bank of the stream left no doubt 
that it was a well-known ford, where teams 
could cross with little difficulty. Wherefore 
Alden could probably do the same. 

He decided to try it. Ever mindful of the 
inestimable value of the mail treasure, he ad- 
justed them with much care about his neck, 
somewhat as if they were life preservers, and 
holding his light rifle in his hand, he stepped 
cautiously into the current like an elephant 
venturing upon a rickety bridge. 

Ugh! as the water crept up around his knees 
he shuddered. He was sure that half a degree 
colder would congeal it. Like some of the 
great rivers of Europe, it must issue from un- 
der a mass of ice. But he could stand it, and 
cheered himself with the thought that many 
others must have made the same passage, for 
not every man could ride in the heavy wagons 
of an emigrant train when fording a stream. 


292 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“I shan’t kick if it doesn’t force me to swim, 
for I shall be getting forward all the time, 
but when I do get across, the first thing I shall 
do is to build a fire and thaw out.” 

He noticed that the bottom of the stream 
felt hard, as if it had been pressed down by the 
innumerable wheels and hoofs that had passed 
over it. He reflected that if he had to swim 
it would be difficult, for he could not afford to 
part with his rifle, and the mail must be saved 
at all hazards. The one consoling thought was 
that should he be forced to support himself, it 
would be only for a few strokes. The creek 
was narrow, and when he was half way over, 
the water had not yet reached his waist. It 
did not seem likely that the depth would pass 
beyond that. 

“And I’m mighty glad,” reflected Alden, 
beginning to step more confidently; “it isn’t so 
bad to get half your body soused, but when it 
comes to going all under — ” 

At that instant he went “all under.” It was 
as if he had stepped into a well a thousand feet 
deep. Not expecting anything of the kind, 
Alden was not prepared, and went down like 
a stone. 


CHAPTER XX 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 

S EVERAL facts saved Alden Payne from 
drowning. In the first place, the deep 
hole into which he stepped was only three or 
four feet across. The space was so slight in- 
deed that his own momentum in walking threw 
him against the other side, where the water was 
shallower than before. Moreover, he was* a 
powerful swimmer, but the strongest swimmer 
that ever lived could not sustain himself when 
incumbered by such heavy clothing, two mail 
pouches and a rifle. The youth promptly let 
go of the weapon, but clung to Uncle Sam’s 
property as if it were his very life. It was a 
desperate struggle but when he floundered to 
his feet he held the bags intact and they were 
with him as he stepped out upon the bank. 

His gun was gone beyond recovery, but he 
had his revolver, which like the contents of his 
match safe was not affected by the submersion. 
It could be fired as readily as before, though 
S93 


294 


RACING FOR LIFE 


it was a weak substitute for the gun that was 
gone. 

But his plight could not have been more dis- 
mal. He was wet to the skin by the frigid wa- 
ter which made his teeth chatter, and the night 
had grown so cold that he must do something 
quickly to save himself from perishing. Two 
plans offered themselves. His first thought 
was to himt a sheltered spot, gather wood and 
start a vigorous blaze, but a minute’s reflection 
showed him that would never do. Leaving out 
the danger of such action, the largest fire in 
the open would do little good. With no blan- 
ket, his clothing saturated and most of the 
warmth going to waste, he would only make 
his condition more miserable. He might pivot 
his body to the blaze, but he would always be 
chilled. It would take a long time to collect 
enough fuel, and he would have to keep the 
fire going throughout the night. 

The only thing that could save him was ex- 
ercise. The healthful, reviving glow must 
come from within, and that had to be generated 
by action. He recalled the words of his father 
when the two were caught in a drenching rain- 
storm while on a hunt deep in the forest. 

“Our clothes and shoes are wet through and 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 


295 


through ; no fire we can start in the woods will 
dry them or make us comfortable. When your 
shoes are soaked don’t take them off even in 
the house, but walk, walk, walk. Soon your 
chilled feet will become warm, and the man 
who dries his stockings and shoes upon him 
will never catch cold therefrom.” 

It was the best of advice, and Alden never 
forgot it. He could hold the general direc- 
tion, and the few miles between him and the 
station were hut a brief walk for which in or- 
dinary circumstances he would care nothing. 
Before leaving the stream he did another sen- 
sible thing. He studied the myriads of stars 
in the sky and fixed upon one of the first mag- 
nitude. In the crystalline air, it gleamed like 
the sun it really was. He thought it was Ve- 
nus, but whether right or wrong, he knew the 
location of the planet and he determined to 
make it his compass. 

Without such a guidance he would inevit- 
ably drift from his course, follow a circle and 
come back to his starting point, or never get 
anywhere except to the place he shouldn’t go. 

It seemed strange to Alden that he saw no 
emigrant train plodding westward. With the 
hundreds dotting the country all the way from 


296 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the Missouri to Salt Lake City, it would seem 
that he ought to be in sight of one or more all 
the time, but he had not observed any since 
parting from his own friends. 

One welcome fact was apparent: that part 
of the trail over which he was walking was 
more favorable than the miles already trav- 
ersed. The ground was comparatively level, 
though the piles of rocks, an occasional ridge 
(none very high), and the growth of willows 
continued at intervals. By making his detours 
as brief as possible, he steadily gained ground. 

When he started he could not prevent his 
teeth from sounding like the music made by 
“bones” at a minstrel entertainment. He shiv- 
ered and felt wretched, with the soggy leathern 
pouches flapping his neck, like a grotesque tip- 
pet; but ere long his incisors stopped their 
music, and the chills shook no more. Then a 
most glowing warmth permeated through his 
body. Even the numb feet felt as if he were 
toasting them in front of a fire. Clearly he 
had done the only sensible thing to do. 

“What’s become of Venus?” he abruptly ex- 
claimed, stopping short when he had gone 
something like a mile; “she’s played the sneak 
act. That beats me!” 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 


297 


He located the beautiful orb well to his left 
instead of in front. He knew the explana- 
tion. He had started on the tramp of a big 
circle which he assuredly would have followed, 
but for the care he used. 

The best explanation of this curious ten- 
dency is that every person is either right or left 
handed. When walking without the unsus- 
pected guides that serve during daylight, one 
side displays a little more vigor than the other, 
and causes a deviation from a straight course. 

Alden faced about like a soldier on drill, and 
took care that he did not wander astray again. 
If he had made no mistake at the beginning, he 
was sure to arrive at his destination before long. 

Twice while striding across a stretch of open 
ground, he fancied he saw the twinkle of a 
light ahead, but in the same moment it van- 
ished and he concluded he was mistaken. 
When, however, it shone out a third time, he no 
longer doubted. Although its brightness va- 
ried it was never wholly lost. 

He halted to study the manifestation, for to 
say the least it was out of the usual order of 
things. All lights at that time of night ought 
to be stationary. If it came from an emigrant 
camp or the window of a cabin, it would glow 


298 


RACING FOR 'LIFE 


steadily, but a glance showed that it was mov- 
ing. It had a rhythmic rise and fall, slight of 
itself, but distinct, such as is made by a person 
carrying a lighted lantern as he walks, or pos- 
sibly by a horseman whose animal is on the 
same stride. 

‘‘I’m like Columbus on the Santa Maria/^ 
thought Alden; “the fost light which he saw 
as he drew near the New World, was carried 
by a man running along the beach, though it 
doesn’t seem that any one ever found who the 
fellow was. I wonder whether Columbus 
made any attempt to do so.” 

It was far more to the point for Alden to 
learn the meaning of what he saw. It was not 
to be supposed that an Indian had anything to 
do with it. Such a performance was contrary 
to their nature, and to Alden it was none the 
less remarkable that a member of his own race 
should be the cause; still it must be one or the 
other. 

With a natural curiosity, the youth held to 
his course with a view of meeting the one with 
the torch or lantern. The dipping motion con- 
tinued, showing that the stranger was either 
walking or riding a horse. 

It was hard to tell how far away a light is 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 


299 


at night, but Alden must have cut down the 
interval two-thirds, when he asked himself 
whether it was prudent to meet a stranger in 
this manner. The latter would have a rifle, 
while the younger was confined to his revolver. 
Though it was probable that nothing was to be 
feared from the man Alden was wise in using 
caution. 

Looking about for a hiding place, he could 
descry none in the obscurity. He ran a few 
paces until well to one side of the course of the 
stranger, when he sat down on the ground. 
The next minute he saw the other was riding 
a horse on a walk. Moreover he had no com- 
panion. The flickering rays did not tell this 
as much as the hoofbeats, which were those of 
a single animal. The illumination added a lit- 
tle more. The left arm was thrust through a 
large ring at the top of a lantern and thus sup- 
ported it. Alden could make out in the re- 
flection the stranger’s hands (one of which 
grasped the knotted bridle reins), the pommel 
of his saddle, and the tuft of hair at the base of 
his pony’s neck, but everything else was invis- 
ible in the darkness. 

Yielding to a strange misgiving, Alden had 
lain flat on the ground to escape discovery. 


300 


RACING FOR LIFE 


When the pony came opposite, he was within a 
dozen paces, near enough to scent that some- 
thing was amiss. He snorted and leaped the 
other way. In the same instant the lantern 
flirted upward. Its uncertain light, revealed 
that the stranger had brought his rifle to his 
shoulder and was aiming at the point of dis- 
turbance. 

“Don’t fire!” called the youth, springing to 
his feet; “I’m a friend.” 

The other had soothed the fright of his horse 
and held him motionless. The rider did not 
speak and Alden, after a minute’s hesitation, 
walked up to him. 

“Who are you and why do you carry that 
lantern?” asked the youth, looking up from 
the stirrup of the man. The latter lowered his 
weapon and peered down at him. He did not 
hold the light above his head, so Alden could 
not see his face. He was vexed by the per- 
sistent silence of the individual. 

“Are you deaf and dumb?” sharply demand- 
ed our young friend. 

Still the horseman did not utter a word. He 
grunted once and touched spur to his pony. 
The animal made a bound, and would have 
dashed off on a run, had not his master jerked 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 


301 


him down to a walk. Then he moved off in 
the shadows, the rider still silent. 

Alden looked after him in the gloom. Man 
and brute had disappeared but the light twink- 
led and dipped as before. 

“That is a little ahead of anything I ever saw 
before!” was the exclamation of the puzzled 
Alden; “we have plenty of mutes in the east 
but I never met any on the plains, and I don’t 
believe he is one. I should set him down as a 
fool or one gone crazy.” 

By and by the soft hoofbeats died out, ever 
on the same deliberate walk. The pony would 
have gone faster had his master permitted, and 
why he did not was altogether beyond the un- 
derstanding of the mystified lad. 

But the questions could not be answered by 
standing in the midst of the plain and guessing 
and staring. The soggy pouches about his 
shoulders would not allow Alden to forget his 
duty. Besides, the soaked leather with its con- 
tents was growing heavy, and the brisk gait he 
had maintained for the last half hour or more 
was telling on him. He was weary and would 
have been glad of a rest. 

“They must have known long ago at the sta- 
tion that something has happened to Dick 


S02 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Lightfoot; I should think they would search 
for him. If that man on horseback had not 
carried a light and locked his lips, I could be- 
lieve that was his business, but he is acting in a 
way I don’t understand.” 

Venus held her proper place among the other 
brilliant orbs overhead, and the lusty youth 
swung off vigorously, determined to keep at it 
without further stop, provided nothing unus- 
ual checked him. 

Surely that was another light which he 
caught a long way ahead. A second glance re- 
vealed that it was not of the nature of the last. 
The glow was unwavering. It must be the big 
camp fire of a wagon train. Though certain 
on this point, Alden would not have turned 
aside, but the camp lay almost directly in front 
and he would soon come to it. 

He decided to stop long enough to learn how 
far away the station was. If he had gone 
astray and the distance was far, he would rest, 
for he needed it, but if the interval was not 
great he would press on. 

His first supposition proved right. In less 
than half an hour, he came up to a circle of 
white-topped Conestogas, in the midst of which 
a huge fire was blazing. Although it was not 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 303 


late, the evening meal had been eaten, and most 
of the tired travelers had withdrawn into the 
wagons and were asleep. Sentinels of course 
were placed, and Alden was challenged as he 
came out of the darkness. His response was 
satisfactory, and he walked between two of the 
lumbering vehicles to the cheerful blaze, around 
which half a dozen men were seated on the 
ground, smoking and talking together. 

All looked up as he came forward and bade 
them good evening. His appearance was in- 
teresting, for he was on foot, carried no rifle, 
but had a couple of mail pouches slung over his 
shoulders. He flung them to the ground with 
a sigh of relief, looked around and laughed as 
he exclaimed: 

‘T’m glad to get rid of them for awhile.’' 

A tall, bearded man rose to his feet and 
walked toward him. He asked in surprise: 

“What are you doing with the United States 
mail?” 

“Trying to reach the station.” 

“You are not the regular carrier.” 

“The Indians got him; he was killed a long 
way back, beyond the other station.” 

“Where is his pony?” 

“I left him at the station, mounted another, 


304 


RACING FOR LIFE 


that gave me the slip, was shot by Indians and 
I have made the rest of the way on foot.” 

'‘Well, you are a hero!” was the admiring 
comment. 

“Not by any means ; any one could have done 
as weU.” 

The youth now looked more searchingly at 
the speaker, whose voice had a familiar sound. 
To his astonishment, he recognized him as Gar- 
ret Chadwick, uncle of Ross Brandley. Alden 
at last had overtaken the other train, and would 
meet the combative youth for whom he had 
looked in vain throughout the past weeks. 

The caller involuntarily glanced around. A 
dozen persons were in sight, most of them with- 
in the circle of light cast by the camp fire, while 
two or three were moving about a little farther 
off. Among them was none who resembled 
young Brandley. 

Alden had not yet sat down, tired as he was. 
His wish to deliver the mail pressed upon him. 

“Can you tell me how near I am to the sta- 
tion?” he asked of Mr. Chadwick. 

“Almost within a stone’s throw; yonder it 
is.” 

Looking in the direction he pointed, Alden 
saw the dull glow of light from the loopholes 


A STRANGE PROCEEDING 


305 


of the structure, not far beyond the confines of 
the camp. It was singular that he had not no- 
ticed it as he came up, but the bigger illumina- 
tion obscured the lesser. 

‘T must go,” he said; “a good deal of time 
has been already lost.” 

‘‘Will you not come back and spend the night 
with us? We can give you comfortable quar- 
ters in one of the wagons.” 

“Thank you; I may do so.” 

He was about to move off when the other 
with a laugh asked : 

“Did you see anything of a man on horse- 
back carrying a lantern?” 

Alden was all attention. 

“I did, and I couldn’t make him speak a 
word; do you know what it meant?” 

Chadwick laughed again. 

“I called at the station a little while ago ; they 
are much disturbed over the absence of Light- 
foot the Pony Express Rider. One of the 
four was so certain that he would turn up be- 
fore supper that after a hot argument, he made 
a freak bet. He agreed that if Lightfoot had 
not come by that time, he would carrj^ a lighted 
lantern on horseback over both streams that 
have to be crossed between here and the station 
20 


306 * 


RACING FOR LIFE 


to the east. One condition was that he was not 
to speak a word to any one except the missing 
man. Of course if he ran into danger he 
might be compelled to yell, and, if he met 
Lightfoot on the way, he had the right to turn 
and come back with him. Failing in that, he 
must make the ride I have named. 

“I have heard of a good many fool wagers, 
but I never knew anything more absurd than 
that. Well, the others wouldn’t delay supper 
a single minute, and I think they hurried 
through with it. The fellow who had made the 
bet was game. He saddled his pony, lighted 
the lantern and started off. I forgot to say 
that another condition was that his animal 
should not trot or gallop, but walk every step 
of the way out and back. He was sticking to 
the conditions when you saw him.” 

“He certainly was, for I couldn’t make him 
open his mouth, and his pony never changed his 
pace. Well, I must go to the station and, gen- 
tlemen, I bid you all good-night.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


A SETBACK 

T he arrival of Alden Payne at the station 
and the story which he carried caused a 
profound sensation. When the door was op- 
ened in response to his knock, he dropped the 
pouches on the floor, sat down on the nearest 
stool and exclaimed: 

“There’s your mail; the Indians got Dick 
Lightfoot.” 

And then as the hardy fellows gathered 
round him, he told the experience with which 
you are familiar. Even in their grief they did 
not forget their courtesy. He was pressed to 
eat, but replied that he had partaken so late in 
the day and was so tired that he had no appe- 
tite: all he wanted was rest. They talked a 
few minutes longer and then he was urged to 
lie down in one of the bunks. This brought 
the question that was on his tongue when he 
entered the cabin: 

“What are you going to do with the mail?” 
SOT 


308 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“I shall be on road in ten minutes,” replied 
one of the three, a man of slight figure, bright 
eyes and alert manner. 

“Won’t you let me take it?” 

They looked at one another in astonishment. 
Then the eldest, who had done most of the 
talking for his friends, said with a smile: 

“You haven’t any pony.” 

“But you have.” 

“You have never been over the route and 
don’t know the way.” 

“The pony does ; I brought the mail here and 
and this is the first time I was ever so far 
west.” 

“But you are worn out.” 

“How far is it to the next station?” 

“A little short of twelve miles, but a part of 
the way is pretty tough and you’re liable to run 
into redskins before you’re out of sight of the 
station.” 

The men admired the pluck of the youth, but 
they would have been foolish to yield to him. 
The mail was certainly safer in charge of one 
of their number than with a youth who was 
strange to the country. They shook their 
heads, and, since there was no help for it, 
Alden lay down on the couch which felt as de- 


A SETBACK 


309 


lightful to his body as eider down. He could 
hardly keep awake while removing his cloth- 
ing and five minutes after his head pressed 
the doubled blanket which served for a pillow, 
he was asleep, and did not open his eyes until 
the morning light streamed through the win- 
dows and the door that was drawn far back. 

One of the men was preparing breakfast and 
the odor of the steaming coffee and broiling 
venison was the sweetest perfume that could 
greet a hungry person. The others were out- 
side looking after the ponies and attending to 
their ablutions. After greeting his host, Al- 
den was directed to the spring near at hand, 
where he bathed and drank. That finished, he 
surveyed the emigrant camp. Everything 
there was bustle and activity. Breakfast was 
also in course of preparation, and men were 
corraling the animals that were cropping the 
lush grass and holding back from harness and 
yoke. 

“They won’t start for an hour,” reflected Al- 
den, as he walked back to the cabin; “after 
breakfast. I’ll go over and call on Mr. Ross 
Brandley. He must have learned of my 
arrival from his uncle, and there shouldn’t be 
any trouble about arranging for a meeting 


310 


RACING FOR LIFE 


between him and me. We are both traveling 
in the same direction, and I don’t think he 
feels backward about that little matter. In 
fact he has proved he doesn’t. I’ll give him 
the fight of his life!” 

And Alden compressed his lips and walked 
more briskly to the door through which he 
passed, entering as the others were sitting 
down to the table. He .was greeted warmly 
and knew he could not have been more wel- 
come. 

It impressed Alden that two facts were self- 
evident: since all the men were present the 
rider who had taken charge of the mail must 
have carried it to the next station and returned 
during the night. Inasmuch as the entire ride 
was less than twenty-five miles the achievement 
was not remarkable, when the circumstances 
are remembered. Every rider had a swift in- 
telligent pony, and both were familiar with 
the route. 

Moreover, since the force at the station had 
increased from three to four men, one of them 
must be the horseman whom Alden met, and 
who refused to speak a word to him. A glance 
at the different ones told the youth which was 
he, but, as he made no reference to his freak 


A SETBACK 


311 


bet, the guest did not think it well to mention 
it. 

Having thanked the men for their hospital- 
ity, Alden rose to go. Addressing the one 
who had announced his intention of carrying 
the mail to the next station, he asked: 

“Did you have any trouble in getting 
through last night?” 

“Who? Me? None at all,” replied the 
rider with a grin, “’cause I didn’t go.” 

“Which one of you made the trip?” 

And Alden looked from one face to the other. 
The tallest man, the chief speaker replied; 

“None of this crowd went.” 

“Hasn’t the mail been sent on? Then I shall 
take it after all.” 

“Oh, the mail reached the station long ago 
if all went well ; one of the party in camp over 
yonder took it.” 

This was strange and Alden asked : 

“How was that? I don’t understand it, 
when you refused me the chance.” 

“I should have given you the chance, if you 
hadn’t been tuckered out; the fellow who took 
the mail was as fresh as a daisy and eager for 
the trip.” 

A suspicion flashed upon Alden. 


312 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“What is his name?” 

“He is a young chap about your size and 
build: name’s Brandley, Ross Brandley.” 

Alden sprang to his feet. 

“And you let him rob me of my honors! 
The last fellow in the world!” 

The four men looked at him in astonishment. 
The tallest asked: 

“What do you mean?” 

Alden saw the absurdity of his action. Re- 
suming his seat, he said: 

“I beg your pardon; how came you to select 

“You hadn’t laid down ten minutes when he 
came over from camp. He said he had some 
important business with you and wanted us to 
wake you. That didn’t seem right, seeing how 
tired you were, and he agreed to wait till morn- 
ing. Then he saw Cal about to start with the 
mail and the notion got into his head that it 
was the job next to his heart. He begged to 
be allowed to take his place. He wouldn’t ac- 
cept no for an answer, and I was fool enough 
to give in, doing something contrary to the 
rules and if anything happens to him, I shall 
get into trouble for it.” 

“He rode on my pony, that knows every foot ^ 


A SETBACK 


313 


of the way,” added the rider referred to as Cal; 
‘T guess he got through.” 

After a moment’s silence, Alden asked: 

“Did he leave any message for me?” 

The agent glanced to the rider to answer. 

“He told me to let you know his name and to 
say that, as you had given up your job, he took 
pity on you and would finish it for you. He 
would try to fix things so you wouldn’t have to 
wait long for the meeting which he’s a good 
deal more anxious than you to bring about.” 

Poor Alden Payne! He was “boiling.” 
Nothing could have occurred to roil him more 
deeply. After completing two-thirds of the 
trip with the mail pouches and going through 
terrifying perils, his enemy, as he persisted in 
regarding him, had quietly stepped in and 
stolen the honor from him. Not only that, but 
he had left an insulting message, as if his act it- 
self were not sufficient. 

Our young friend could see no “ray of 
light.” Had he possessed his own pony he 
would have started in hot pursuit of Brandley, 
but Firebug was with the train and until he 
came up, no animal was at command. It was 
useless to ask the agent to loan him one of his 
horses, for there was not the slightest reason 


314 


RACING FOR LIFE 


for doing so and every reason why he should 
not. 

The chagrined Alden tried to formulate 
some plan by which he could even up matters 
with the fellow who had treated him so ill. He 
thought of going on afoot, but that would have 
been folly. The only method seemed to ac- 
company the emigrant train until it met 
Brandley returning, or overtook him at the 
next station; but, to do that, placed him in a 
delicate and repugnant position. He would 
travel as the guest in one sense of Brandley’s 
relative, who was the head of the company. 
That fact must act as a restraint upon the 
nephew, and to a certain extent upon Alden 
himself. The foes must meet upon neutral 
ground, where the duty of hospitality did not 
bear upon either. 

Seeing the train about to start, Alden, rest- 
less, impatient and trying hard to hide his 
anger, walked over to camp and went straight 
to Mr. Chadwick. 

‘T should like to ask,” he said; “how you 
came to allow Ross to take my place.” 

The man was nettled by the unconscious 
brusqueness of Alden’s manner. 

“Explain yourself,” he said, moving aside 


A SETBACK 


S15 


where the others who looked inquiringly at 
them, could not overhear what was said. 

“I brought the mail pouches from the last 
station and expected to take them on to the 
next as I had a right to do.’’ 

“Well, what of it?” 

“And your nephew sneaked over and took 
them away from me.” 

“Did the agent give him permission?” 

“Certainly, though he now regrets it.” 

“Then your question should be addressed to 
him and not to me.” 

“You shouldn’t have permitted your nephew 
to do such a thing.” 

“Since when have you assumed to advise me, 
young man? In the first place, Ross didn’t 
ask my permission, nor did I know he had gone 
until this morning.” 

“And you would not have allowed him to do 
what he did had you known it?” 

“I haven’t said that nor do I say it now; 
what I do say is that I am much pleased to bid 
you good morning.” 

With which curt dismissal. Garret Chadwick 
turned about and gave his attention to the 
starting of the train, which was in motion a few 
minutes later. 


316 


RACING FOR LIFE 


Repulsed and turned baek at all points Al- 
den was in an unenviable frame of mind. Fie 
knew he had acted inexcusably toward Mr. 
Chadwick, and he would have apologized had 
the opportunity been given. Had he decided 
to go with his party to the next station, he 
could not do so after these words. He 
wandered back to the station where he sat 
down on one of the stools that had been brought 
outside and gloomily watched the lumbering 
wagons as they swung slowly westward under 
the strenuous pull of the oxen. 

The result of all this dismal cogitation was 
the decision that there remained but the single 
thing to do: he must wait at the station until 
the arrival of the train under Shagbark’s 
guidance. 

“He ought to be here by to-night or to-mor- 
row forenoon. Before that, Chadwick and his 
party will be at the next station, and so many 
miles ahead of us that we shan’t overtake them 
this side of Salt Lake City, if we do even there. 

“Ross Brandley is running away from me!” 
exclaimed Alden slapping his knee; “there 
isn’t a doubt of it. He knew that if he stayed 
in camp nothing would prevent our meeting 
to-day, so he made the excuse of wishing to 


A SETBACK 


617 


carry the mail to the next station. When he 
gets there hell wait for his friends, and be gone 
long before we can come up with him.” 

And this conclusion did not add to the 
young man’s peace of mind. He must pass 
the dragging hours as best he could until the 
arrival of his friends. He rose to his feet with 
the intention of taking the back trail to meet 
them, but gave over the plan when he reflected 
that the breadth of the route made it very easy 
for him to miss them. 

‘Tt would be my luck to do so,” he growled; 
“everything goes wrong with me.” 

The man inside the cabin having cleared 
away the dishes and set matters to right, sat 
down on a bench and began mending his 
clothes; two others had gone off to look after 
the horses, which were grazing some distance 
away among the foothills. Probably they 
would go on a little hunt before their return. 
Cal the diminutive rider came out, bringing a 
stool with him and placed it beside the glum 
Alden. 

“Sorry you feel so bad, my young friend: I 
had no idea of anything of the kind. Ross 
never told me of the trouble between you and 
him.” 


318 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Of course not; he was afraid you would 
make him stay here till I could see him.” 

Cal swung one of his sinewy legs over the 
other knee, struck a fly crawling several feet 
away, with a well aimed volley of discolored 
spittle, and said; 

“No; I don’t think it was that; you must re- 
member he was eager to wake you up when he 
first come to quarters.” 

“I’m sorry you didn’t let him do so.” 

“So am I, seeing how you feel. What’s 
your quarrel with him? I liked the fellow 
first rate, what little I seen of him.” 

Alden told of the interrupted fray in St. 
Joe, when Brandley bumped into him, and in- 
stead of apologizing, added insulting words. 

“Can’t say that I blame you for being r’iled, 
but I should like to ask a favor of you.” 

“What is it?” 

“When that fight comes off, fix things so 
I can observe it. I know it’ll be a hummer.” 

Alden could not help smiling. 

“I’m sure I have no objection, but I don’t 
see much chance of obliging you. He has left 
here and isn’t likely to come back.” 

“But I can fix things so as to ride to the next 
station when the mail comes in from the east.” 


A SETBACK 319 

“Well, if you are in the neighborhood, I’ll 
give you a reserved seat.” 

“That’s the talk; I’ll do my best.” 

“You mustn’t forget that he is running away 
from me.” 

Cal swung the other leg over its mate and 
submerged a fly that was groping far beyond 
ordinary hydraulic range. Raising his hand 
he protested ; 

“Hold on, pardner; young Brandley ain’t 
running away from you.” 

“How do you know he isn’t?” 

“I warn’t with him long, but long enough to 
see what kind of stuff he’s made of ; he’s true 
blue and don’t you forget it. He’ll be waiting 
for you when you get to the next station and 
you can then have it out.” 

“I hope so, but I doubt it.” 

“He’ll never show the white feather, more 
than you will.” 

Inasmuch as Cal included Alden in this com- 
pliment, our young friend could make no 
objection to the same. 


CHAPTER XXII 


Jethro’s secret and what followed 

T he day was crisp, clear and sunshiny, Al- 
den strove to shake off the feelings that 
oppressed him. He knew he was not treating 
his hospitable friends right, for they had shown 
him every courtesy, as they would have done 
had he chosen to spend weeks at the mail sta- 
tion; Cal invited him to go on a hunting ex- 
cursion after the midday meal. Ordinarily the 
youth would have accepted eagerly, but his 
mood forced him to decline. 

Inasmuch as he had had plenty of sleep, he 
could get no more. He strolled about the open 
space, pausing now and then to survey through 
his glasses the snowy peaks which towered far 
into the sky to the westward, or at the lower 
hills to the north, where the gnarled pine, the 
dwarfed cedar, the rushing torrents and the 
gorges made up one of the many wild regions 
which abound over thousands of square miles 
of area. Abundance of game was there al- 
3^0 


JETHRO’S SECRET 


321 


ways with the added spice of danger from the 
dusky hunters who preferred to bag the white 
invaders in preference to deer, antelope, buf- 
falo, or mountain sheep. 

The location of the station shortened the 
view to the southeast from which Shagbark 
must come. There were too many obstacles 
and variations of the landscape to per- 
mit one to see far in that direction, but Alden 
continued to look, as the afternoon waned, 
yearning for the sight of the slow moving 
train. 

Suddenly the still air was pierced by a wild 
shout. It was the “coyote yell,” of the Pony 
Express Rider coming from the west. Seem- 
ingly in the same moment. Cal hurried round 
the corner of the cabin, leading one of the wiry 
half-breed horses by the bridle. The man 
from within the building came through the 
door and peered in the direction of the sound. 
The other two were still absent hunting among 
the foothills. 

Up the slope from behind the rocks and 
dwarfed cedars burst the rider and his horse. 
The panting animal was covered with lather 
and glistening sweat. The sight was similar 
to that which Alden, who leaped to his feet at 
21 


S22 


RACING FOR LIFE 


the signal, had seen many times. The broad- 
brimmed hat flaring up in front, the fluttering 
handkerchief about the neck, the fringed collar, 
the close fitting coat, cartridge belt at the waist, 
gloved hands, revolver at the hip, rifle across 
his thighs, fringed trouser legs, tucked just 
below the knees into the boots, spurs, keen, 
alert eyes, body leaning slightly forward but 
as firm in the saddle, as if the rider were a part 
of the pony ; these with mail pouches locked and 
secured in place, were the noticeable points of 
the man who dashed up at headlong speed his 
horse setting his legs and coming to a stop 
within a single bound. 

“Howdy, Cal? Howdy, BiU?’’ 

“Howdy, Jim?” 

The words were yet in the air, when the rider 
leaped to the ground, whirled about and began 
unfastening the mail bags. Cal helped, they 
were slung upon the back of the waiting pony 
and Jim vaulted into the saddle, caught up the 
reins and pricked the flanks of his animal with 
his keen spurs. 

During the few seconds this operation re- 
quired, Cal asked: 

“Did the mail get in all right from the east?” 


JETHRO’S SECRET 


323 


“Pony galloped up before midnight, with 
the bags without a scratch.” 

“Good—” 

“But the Indians got the rider; haven’t seen 
hide or hair of him. I’m oiF!” 

And without another word, his horse thun- 
dered on a dead run to the southeast. 

The astounded Alden turned to follow him 
with his eyes, when he descried a tall bony horse 
approaching, on whose back was a massive man 
with shaggy whiskers, and a pipe in his mouth. 

“Hello, Shagbark!” shouted the youth, run- 
ning toward him delighted and yet awed by the 
awful message the Pony Express Rider flung 
at them. He had veered so as to avoid the ap- 
proaching train, and was already beyond sight. 

The grim veteran did not try to hide his de- 
light at sight of the young man. The move- 
ment of his heavy beard around his mouth 
showed he was grinning. Leaning over, he 
reached down and almost crushed the hand that 
was offered him. 

“B’ars and bufflers, younker! but I’m power- 
ful glad to see ye; I’ve been more worried than 
I let on to the other folks.” 

“I’m sound and unharmed, thank Heaven, 


RACING FOR LIFE 


324 

Shagbark, though I had a pretty tough time of 
it. Is every one else well?” 

“They war a few minutes ago,” replied the 
guide, turning in his saddle and looking back 
as if not sure everything was right. 

The plodding train was rounding into 
sight, and at the head was Jethro Mix on his 
horse. Alden waved his hand. The dusky 
fellow stared a minute unable to grasp the sit- 
uation. Then, recognizing his young master, 
he banged his heels against the ribs of Jilk, 
and cantered up. 

“Gorrynation ! if it doan’ do my eyes good to 
hear you and my ears good to see you ! 
I’ve been worrying awful and was gwine to 
start out to hunt you up if you hadn’t been 
here.” 

In the exuberance of his delight, Jethro 
slipped to the ground and warmly shook the 
hand of the one whom he loved more than any 
person in the world. 

“We’ll camp hyar!” called Shagbark to the 
teamsters, all of whom had come within easy 
reach of his voice. 

While the wagons were assuming position, 
and the men preparing to spend the night 
where Chadwick’s party had camped the night 


JETHRO’S SECRET 


325 


before, Alden exchanged greetings with Mr. 
Fleming, his wife and the remainder of his 
friends. Then excusing himself for a few 
minutes, he ran to the station where the agent 
and his companion were curiously watching the 
movements of the emigrants. 

“What do you make of the words of the 
rider?” asked Alden in a trembling voice. The 
two looked at him and the elder replied with 
the question : 

“What can you make of it except what he 
said?” 

“Do you think Brandley has been killed by 
the Indians?” 

“As sure as you’re standing there,” replied 
the taller; “the biggest tomfool thing I ever 
done was to let him start off with the mail. It 
means my finish.” 

Bill thought more of the trouble coming to 
him than he did of the fate that had overtaken 
poor Ross Brandley. 

“Can’t anything be done for him?” asked 
Alden swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Not a thing; he isn’t the first one the 
Indians got and he won’t be the last by a jug- 
ful.” 

It was Cal who now spoke. 


S26 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“There ain’t any doubt that he was shot from 
the back of the pony, which dashed off and ran 
to the station with the mail. If we’d let you 
start out with the pouches, as you wanted to do, 
that’s what would have become of ^ou/^ 

But Alden was not thinking of that. He 
was distressed beyond words at the dreadful 
fate that had overtaken the youth with whom he 
quarreled and whom he was anxious to meet 
that the wrangle might be fought to a finish. 

“All day while I have been brooding and 
hating him he has been lying somewhere in the 
solitude looking up to the sky and seeing it 
not. God forgive me!” 

Angered by the indifference of the two men, 
Alden turned back and joined Shagbark, who 
had dismounted and removed the saddle and 
bridle of his horse. Jethro had done the 
same, and the three stood a little apart from 
the others. Alden had taken a minute or two 
to caress his pony, which whinneyed with 
pleasure at meeting him, but the master was in 
too great anguish to pay the animal the atten- 
tion he would have paid in any other circum- 
stances. 

The three were grouped together, and 


JETHRO’S SECRET 


S27 


J ethro and Shagbark looked into the handsome 
face that could not hide its grief. 

Then in as few words as possible Alden told 
the dreadful story. As soon as he had finished 
Jethro with a countenance hardly less dis- 
tressed, said: 

“Al, you never let me tell you dat secret I 
wanted to tell you.” 

‘T have no patience to listen now : more im- 
portant matters are on my mind.” 

“But youV got hear it or I’ll bust.” 

“Go ahead,” said Shagbark, who saw that it 
had some bearing on the sore trouble of his 
young friend. 

“You remember in St. Joe, when dat chap 
butted into you?” 

“Of course, but never mind about that.” 

“Do you know what he said to you?” 

“I don’t remember, and I don’t care.” 

“You neber had de rights ob dat; I stubbed 
my toe, bumped agin him and knocked him 
agin you, De minute he did dat, he turned to 
you and said, "I heg your pardon!' but you 
thinked he said something insulting, but he 
didn't," 

Alden stared at J ethro. 


328 


RACING FOR LIFE 


“Are you speaking the truth?” he asked in 
a husky voice. 

“As suah’s as you’s standing dere and me 
here.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” 

“I tried to seberal times but you wouldn’t 
let me.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me at the time?” 

Jethro chuckled. 

“I wanted to see de font.” 

“Jeth, I ought to beat the life out of you for 
that.” 

“Dat’s what I thinks; here am your gun; 
take hold of the barrel and break it ober my 
head; I won’t say a word.” 

And the fellow handed the weapon to his 
master and meekly awaited his pleasure. 

“To think,” said Alden, as if talking to him- 
self; “that Ross Brandley acted the gentleman 
and I the brute. No wonder he resented it 
when I refused to receive his apology. I 
thank Heaven we did not meet while I knew 
not the truth. Ah, if I could have seen him 
before this last happened and told him my re- 
grets!” 

Shagbark had remained silent until now. 


JETHRO’S SECRET 


329 


He stepped forward and laid his big hand 
affectionately on the shoulder of Alden. 

“Don’t take it so to heart, younker: thar’s 
one chance in a hundred that yer young friend, 
as I ’spose ye call him, is alive.” 

“Oh, I hope so, but it is impossible.” 

“Not much chance, but thar is one as I ob- 
sarved in a hundred. Wait till we git to the 
next station. It mought be that when he seen 
things looked squally he slipped off his pony 
and took to kiver. Not much chance I say, hut 
it may be. Let’s hope till we hyar more.” 

Alden took slight comfort from the words 
of his rough friend, who had little faith him- 
self in them. 

Because of this affliction, the train started at 
an unusually early hour the next morning. It 
arrived without incident at the next mail station 
about noon. There they found Mr. Fleming’s 
party still in camp, but the leader was absent. 
In answer to Alden’s hurried questions he was 
told: 

“His nephew has been missing since night 
before last, and he and one of his friends have 
gone in search of him.” 

“And that is what I shall do!” said Alden, 


330 


RACING FOR LIFE 


with a flash of his eyes and a compression of 
his lips; “and I shall not return till I learn the 
truth.” 

“And I’se gwine wid you,” added Jethro 
Mix. 

“I don’t see that you can be of any help, 
but you may come if you wish. You owe the 
risk of your own life for the wrong you have 
done that noble fellow.” 

“Dat’s what I thinks, Al, and I’m wid you 
till de last horn blows.” 

Now suppose we join hands in the hunt for 
Ross Brandley, and leave all the adventures 
and experiences to be told in 

Alden Among the Indians 

OR 

The Search for the Missing Pony 
Express Rider. 


THE FAMOUS STANDARD JUVENILES 


Published by 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 
Philadelphia 


EDWARD S* ELLIS. 

Edward S. Ellis, the popular writer of boys’ books, Is 
a native of Ohio, where he was born somewhat more 
than a half-century ago. His father was a famous 
hunter and rifle shot, and it was doubtless his exploits 
and those of his associates, with their tales of adven- 
ture which gave the son his taste for the breezy back- 
woods and for depicting the stirring life of the early 
settlers on the frontier. 

Mr. Ellis began writing at an early age and his 
work was acceptable from the first. His parents re- 
moved to New Jersey while he was a boy and he was 
graduated from the State Normal School and became a 
member of the faculty while still in his teens. He was 
afterward principal of the Trenton High School, a trus- 
tee and then superintendent of schools. By that time 
his services as a writer had become so pronounced that 
he gave his entire attention to literature. He was an 
exceptionally successful teacher and wrote a number of 
text-books for schools, all of which met with high 
favor. For these and his historical productions, Prince- 
ton College conferred upon him the degree of Master 
of Arts. 

The high moral character, the clean, manly ten- 
dencies and the admirable literary style of Mr. Ellis* 
stories have made him as popular on the other side of 
the Atlantic as in this country. A leading paper re- 
marked some time since, that no mother need hesitate 


to place in the hands of her boy any book written by 
Mr. Ellis. They are found in the leading Sunday-school 
libraries, where, as may well be believed, they are in 
wide demand and do much good by their sound, whole- 
some lessons which render them as acceptable to pa- 
rents as to their children. Nearly all of the Ellis books 
published by The John C. Winston Company are re- 
issued in London, and many have been translated into 
other languages. Mr. Ellis is a writer of varied accom- 
plishments, and, in addition to his stories, is the author 
of historical works, of a number of pieces of popular 
music, and has made several valuable inventions. Mr. 
Ellis is in the prime of his mental and physical powers, 
and great as have been the merits of his past achieve- 
ments, there is reason to look for more brilliant pro- 
ductions from his pen in the near future. 


DEERFOOT SERIES. 

3 vols. By Edward S. Ellis. $3,00 

Hunters of the Ozark. The Last War TraiL 



Camp in the Mountains. 


3 vols. 
Lost Trail. 

LOG CABIN SERIES. 

By Edward S. Ellis. $3.00 

Footprints in the Forest. 
Camp-Fire and Wigwam. 

3 vols. 
Ned in the 

BOY PIONEER SERIES. 

By Edward S. Ellis. 

Block-House. Ned on the River. 
Ned in the Woods. 

$3.00 

3 vols. 

THE NORTHWEST SERIES. 

By Edward S. Ellis. 

$3.00 


Two Boys in Wyoming. Cowmen and Rustlers. 

A Strange Craft and its Wonderful Voyage. 

BOONE AND KENTON SERIES. 

3 vols. By Edward S. Ellis. $3.00 

Shod with Silence. In the Days of the Pioneera. 

Phantom of the River, 


THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO/s POPUEAR JUVENILES. 


J. T. TROWBRIDGE. 

Neither as a writer does he stand apart from the great 
currents of life and select some exceptional phase or odd 
combination of circumstances. He stands on the common 
level and appeals to the universal heart, and all that he sug- 
gests or achieves is on the plane and in the line of march of 
the great body of humanity. 

The Jack Hazard series of stories, published in the late 
Our Young Folks^ and continued in the first volume of St. 
Nicholas^ under the title of “Fast Friends,” is no doubt 
destined to hold a high place in this class of literature. The 
delight of the boys in them (and of their seniors, too) is 
well founded. They go to the right spot every time. Trow- 
bridge knows the haart of a boy like a book, and the heart 
of a man, too, and he has laid them both open in these books 
in a most successful manner. Apart from the qualities that 
render the series so attractive to all young readers, they 
have great value on account of their portraitures of American, 
country life and character. The drawing is wonderfully 
accurate, and as spirited as it is true. The constable, Sel- 
lick, is an original character, and as minor figures where will 
we find anything better than Miss Wansey, and Mr. P. Pip- 
kin, Esq. The picture of Mr. Dink’s school, too, is capital, 
and where else in fiction is there a better nick-name than 
that the boys gave to poor little Stephen Treadwell, “Step 
Hen,” as he himself pronounced his name in an unfortunate 
moment when he saw it in print for the first time in his les- 
son in school. 

On the whole, these books are very satisfactory, and 
afford the critical reader the rare pleasure of the works that 
are just adequate, that easily fulfill themselves and accOQh 
plish all they set out to ^^•^SciribrieY i Monthly* 


HORATIO ALGER, JR. 


The enormous sales of the books of Horatio Alger, 
Jr,, show the greatness of his popularity among the 
boys, and prove that he is one of their most favored 
writers. I am told that more than half a million copies 
altogether have been sold, and that all the large circu- 
lating libraries in the country have several complete 
sets, of which only two or three volumes are ever 
on the shelves at one time. If this is true, what thou- 
sands and thousands of boys have read and are reading 
Mr. Alger’s books! His peculiar style of stories, often 
imitated but never equaled, have taken a hold upon the 
young people, and, despite their similarity, are eagerly 
read as soon as they appear. 

Mr. Alger became famous with the publication of 
that undying book, “Ragged Dick, or Street Life in New 
York.” It was his first book for young people, and its 
success was so great that he immediately devoted him- 
self to that kind of writing. It was a new and fertile 
field for a writer then, and Mr. Alger’s treatment of it 
at once caught the fancy of the boys. “Ragged Dick” 
first appeared in 1868, and ever since then it has been 
selling steadily, until now it is estimated that about 
200,000 copies of the series have been sold. 

— “Pleasant Hours for Boys and Girls.” 


A writer for boys should have an abundant sym- 
pathy with them. He should be able to enter into their 
plans, hopes, and aspirations. He should learn to look 
upon life as they do. Boys object to be written down to. 
A boy’s heart opens to the man or writer who under- 
stands him. 

.—From “Writing Stories for Boys,” by Horatio Alger, Jr. 


$ 6.00 


RAGGED DICK SERIES. 

6 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 

Ragged Dick. Rough and Ready. 

Fame and Fortune. Ben the Luggage Boy. 

Mark the Match Boy. Rufus and Rose. 

TATTERED TOM SERIES— First Series. 

4 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $4.00 

Tattered Tom. Phil the Fiddler. 

Paul the Peddler. Slow and Sure. 

TATTERED TOM SERIES— Second Series. 

4 vols. $4.00 

Julius. Sam’s Chance. 

The Young Outlaw. The Telegraph Boy. 

CAMPAIGN SERIES. 

3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00 

Frank’s Campaign. Charlie Codman’s Cruise. 

Paul Prescott’s Charge. 

LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES— First Series. 

4 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $4.00 

Luck and Pluck. Strong and Steady. 

Sink or Swim. Strive and Succeed. 

LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES— Second Series. 

4 vols. $4.00 

Try and Trust. Risen from the Ranks. 

Bound to Rise. Herbert Carter’s Legacy. 

BRAVE AND BOLD SERIES. 

4 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $4.00 

Brave and Bold. Shifting for Himself. 

Jack’s Ward. Wait and Hope. 

NEW WORLD SERIES. 

3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00 

Digging for Gold. Facing the World. In a New World. 


VICTORY SERIES. 

3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jp. 

Only an Irish Boy. Adrift in the City. 

Victor Vane, or the Young Secretary. 

FRANK AND FEARLESS SERIES. 

3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 

Frank Hunter’s Peril. Frank and Fearless. 
' The Young Salesman. 

GOOD FORTUNE LIBRARY. 

3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 

Walter Sherwood’s Probation. A Boy’s Fortune. 
The Young Bank Messenger. 

HOW TO RISE LIBRARY. 

3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 

Jed, the Poorhouse Boy. Rupert’s Ambition. 
Lester’s Luck, 



$3.00 


13.00 


$3.00 


$3.00 


LBJL’i5 


< 






*• 





4 




> 








. k f r ' 

1 

■V* 


1 


I 






' I 




fj 









t 

* 





i 




t 





>1 




